The Offer
by RoswellianMisha
Summary: Seven months have passed since the gang left Roswell. Now, tired and scared for their latest escape from the Special Unit, they rest in a side road motel without knowing that danger is, literally, just around the corner. CC ALL
1. The Catch

Title: The Offer – Book I in "The Messengers" Trilogy

Disclaimer: Gees, would I love to own them? But nope, you all know who the owners are, and certainly that doesn't include me. I'm just writing for fun :) But to make it official: The characters of "Roswell" belong to Jason Katims, Melinda Metz, WB, and UPN. They are not mine and no infringement is intended.

Category: CC/All – Post Graduation

Rating: YTEEN, for very occasional language

Summary: Seven months have passed since the gang left Roswell. Now, tired and scared for their latest escape from the Special Unit, they rest in a side rode motel without knowing that danger is, literally, just around the corner. Because someone else wants to catch them, and he has in mind an offer that can make both parties get what they want, or so it may look…

Author's Note: Thank you so much to my wonderful editors, **KathyW**, **RoswieGoof** and **thetvgeneral** to whom I'm eternally indebted for their valuable time and endless corrections. Thank you GIRLS! You are the bestest! ;)

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The Messengers **

**Book 1 - The Offer**

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I**

**The Catch**

Steve Lewis checked his watch again. Three more minutes to start what he had been hired to do. Hiding below the only window of the motel room, he risked breaking his concentration for only two seconds and to watch the stars. It was a clear night by the end of January, and seeing the so familiar constellations for him made him take a deep breath. When the air came out of his lungs, it went like a white poof in front of him. Closing his mouth, he returned his concentration to what he and his other two companions where about to do.

This was the third attempt at taking these… kids to wherever it was that they were going to be taken. He didn't know how old they were, but heck, they couldn't even be older than 22 or something. The reason he and his two friends had been hired for this particular job was because they never asked questions, worked with all the rules that were given, and never said a word afterwards. Besides, the three of them owed a favor to Dave, so it was time for payback. No one wanted to owe anything to him, and they weren't the exceptions.

Still, Steve felt that he hadn't been given all the information he should have known. No surprise there; Dave would only tell them what he felt they should know, things that wouldn't really matter in the long term –or that could be denied, or changed or covered up later- so whatever it was he hadn't told them was because he wasn't sure enough of them. Not that that hurt his feelings either. This job done, and he would never again have to do anything for Dave in his life. At least not out of favors.

When Dave had contacted them a month and a half before, Steve had tried to not seem surprised, because taking his targets just like that –they weren't even in another country, for Pete's sake- wasn't exactly one of Dave's usual favors. So, one easy job to get Dave out off their backs had sounded like heaven.

Except that the job itself hadn't been as easy as he had thought. Which brought him back to why this was the _third_ attempt. There were two specific problems as to why they had failed the past two times, though. First, Steve and company couldn't track them. Dave was the only one who knew where they were, and he had said that they were going to be notified where and when the kids could be take, so Steve had had to be at the ready for five weeks now, and it was getting old. Dave had smiled, with that "I know it all" smile of his, and added that it was okay if they failed a couple of times, but that time was a pressing thing. That they weren't _the_ only ones following these targets –these adolescent targets, for crying out loud- and that they weren't that easy to locate. Apparently, they did know how to hide, but Steve also knew that Dave hadn't counted on five weeks of waiting. It wasn't Steve's fault, or Dave's fault, it had been just a matter of finding the right time and place. And the six sleeping figures in the three motel rooms had done everything they could to not give them the right time or place.

_They stay apart for two or three days_, Ray had said, Dave's strategist in tracking them down, _but they always reunite after that. It's only a matter of time before they choose a motel or a place where they are going to be together and away from too many people._

And if that wasn't bad enough, there was the second problem. One of the few specific rules they had to follow was that the subjects couldn't know that they were being taken. How easy it would have been to use darts in plain daylight, while they were going for lunch or something, but that would alert the others, no matter how fast it was done. Besides, Dave didn't want spectacles for anyone else, anyway.

So, the first time they had tried to do this, they were informed that there was always a sentinel; one of them stayed up till 1:30 a.m., until another took their place, whether the whole group was together or not. That kind of trashed the whole idea of none of them knowing that something was happening, but even if that could be taken care of, that night when they were getting ready to get close to the motel four weeks ago, a snow storm had hit, hard, and _that_ had trashed the whole idea. It would have been impossible to take them out of the motel to anywhere with three feet of snow on the roads and no nearby place to get a helicopter set up. So they had let it pass.

The second time, only three days ago, the FBI had thought it was the perfect time as well. They were still too far away to really know what had happened inside that motel room, and all they had seen was windows being blown, a green light of God knew what, and thirty seconds later, cars started to explode out of the blue as well. It was one hell of confusion, and the six of them had gotten out by a miracle. That night Steve had learned two things: those FBI guys had no style on how to do a covert thing like this one, and that those kids _knew_ how to get out of a trap, even if he wasn't sure how. Which was fine with him, and made him even like the idea that he and his friends should do this as low key as it could get. Whatever those kids had done, they sure as hell could do it again. That also gave him some ideas as to why Dave and the FBI were behind them.

He had been tempted to ask, because he knew this was part of the things he was sure Dave hadn't told them and that they actually _should_ know, but Dave had been worried, really worried –something Steve had never even heard of- and had told them that this time they couldn't afford to fail. Not only because this was their best chance to get their targets unguarded –the kids had left the FBI and were at the edge of losing it because of how close they had been to get caught- but because the FBI was getting better at tracking them. It was a matter of time –a short time indeed- before those idiots without style would get their targets before Steve and company did.

_And that_, Ray had said turning to look at Dave_, would bring itself a whole host of logistical nightmares to get them out of there._ So Dave did want these kids one way or the other. _Stick to the plan_, Ray had added facing them, _but if something goes wrong…_ He hadn't finished, but it was clear that if something went wrong, then they'd have to do this in whatever way was possible. Their creativity and resourcefulness were the other two characteristics of why they had been hired. He only hoped that whatever Dave hadn't told them wasn't going to interfere with whatever they would end up doing.

So here he was, with one minute and twenty seconds before they liberated the special gas that would send the six sleeping beauties inside to a much needed deep sleep. They were so tense you could break a baseball bat in their shoulders, and they wouldn't even flinch. Steve had thought exactly that when he had first arrived at the surrounding areas of the motel and had taken a good look at the rooms. It was a motel at the edge of one of those little cute towns that were on postcards, that always seemed to have their roofs and pines full of snow, no matter what time of the year. A little hideaway from all the city chaos, he guessed. It wasn't all cozy-cozy, but it was neat and clean. Too peaceful for him to like, but it worked perfectly for anyone traveling. Martin, one of his companions, had checked to see how difficult it would be to drill a hole in the wall of their room and found that it would be easy. So, half an hour later, he had joined them to plan out who was going to get what room.

It was close to 2:30 a.m. now, and as Dave had predicted, they were too tired to put a second lookout for the night. Steve didn't blame them. With this cold weather and all stressed up, probably without a decent sleep in months, not to mention no sleep at all in the past three days, who would want to stay in the lookout when you thought no one was out to get you, at least not this night? Perfect.

They had approached the three rooms, two singles and one double all in a row, as quiet as mice, and had positioned themselves under their respective windows. Eight minutes before, the three of them had opened a tiny little hole about six inches above the floor, where they expected to find no obstacle for the gas to enter. Martin's room hadn't had anything on its side under the window, so they had assumed no furniture was going to be there in either of the other motel rooms. And, lucky them, none of them had encountered a problem.

_Four, three, two—_, Steve introduced the little tube that would carry the gas from its tiny container –it kind of reminded him of those oxygen tanks, just in micro size- into the room and let the valve open. They would have to wait twelve minutes to be sure it had worked. And hell, he hoped it _was_ working. Because if they entered those rooms in twelve minutes and those kids were awake…

Dave had also given them darts with the liquid version of the sedatives. Martin had even joked that why all this fancy stuff. _Why, are they allergic or something? We do have our own equipment, you know._ But Dave hadn't smiled –which Steve hadn't liked. Whether he liked to owe favors to the guy or not, at least Dave was easy to get along with, and he liked to smile too. And when he hadn't, Steve had known this was something serious. _Use what I give you to use and collect your payment afterwards._

Which brought him to the only reason as to why Steve liked to owe Dave a favor. Dave paid, and paid well. Of course, Dave's favors were _never_ easy, but that was why he made sure the best owed him something, and why he also paid for a job well done.

Gosh, those twelve minutes were taking forever.

He had the stupid temptation of getting up and peeking inside from the window to see if his two guinea pigs were falling asleep as the experiment had dictated. But he couldn't do that. Besides, he reminded himself, if it is working or not, they would still look asleep, just not as deep as we hope them to be.

Six minutes had passed by, only six more to wait. In six more minutes they would knock on the doors telling them that there was a possibility of a gas leak. If they were awake, well, then at least Steve and his team would have a cover up story to see that the gas hadn't worked. They would re-group, and ambush the teenagers when they were leaving, because one way or another, they had to be taken this day. And there was also the oh so simple possibility that the gas had actually worked, and none of the kids would actually awake and attend to whoever was knocking on the door.

They hadn't picked their cover up story out the air, either. If the kids were actually in "Morpheus arms" –as a friend of his liked to say referring to the Greek God of sleep- the three of them would continue knocking on the remaining five rooms with the same story. With everybody out and trying to figure out if there was a gas leak or not, paramedics were going to be called –courtesy of Martin's cell phone- and would make a heroes' rescue of the poor inhabitants of rooms 6, 7 and 8 who had had a gas leak while sleeping. Paramedics courtesy of Dave, of course.

Steve checked his watch again. Two more minutes till showtime, he thought. He wasn't a big fan of acting stuff up, but he had learned long ago that it was a very useful skill. Especially in his line of work, where pretending to be someone else was a given. For some strange reason, that brought his thoughts back to his targets. He was thirty-four years old, had joined the Navy after high school, had been a Navy Seal for quite some time, and now he worked on his own, and was called pretty often to do covert operations for people in the government who didn't want anyone else knowing what was going on. It was fine with him, and his bank account as well. He was used to pressure –even liked it- and coming and going without leaving a trace. But that was a life he had chosen. What had these kids done to be in such a situation at such age? Robbed a bank? Blown up a military base? Steve laughed at that one. But seriously, he would have liked to know the background story of the people he was about to put a show on for. He didn't even know their names. He had just looked at gazillions of pictures of each one as individuals. According to Dave, they didn't need to know anything else. Brennan, the third part of this trio, had joked around the first time they had seen them in the distance by labeling the couples as "dark hair, light hair, and mixed up hair", since they had paired up like that. It had been too obvious that out of the six, four were romantically involved. He wondered why the other remaining two weren't.

Brennan and Martin started to get up, and Steve did the same. _For one single time_, Steve thought as he watched the last seconds of the twelve minute wait go by, _could this be an easy catch? Please?_ At least he had gotten the "dark hair" couple to deal with. He had no envy for Martin who had ended up with the "light hair" pair, since that guy did seem to be a little… edgy. And in the state of mind that they were… Sure enough they were going to smell a trap in here, but Steve, Martin and Brennan would have to play it along. _Dave should have come in here and made his offer, _Steve thought two seconds before starting to knock on the door to room number 6 like a maniac, 'that'_ would have been the easiest way to do this_.

"Hey! Someone in there? We think there's a gas leak in the motel! Don't turn your lights on!" Steve knocked as hard as he could, and yelled at the top of his lungs. Two seconds after he had started Martin had started with his own door, room 7, shouting pretty much the same thing, followed immediately by Brennan in room 8. Lights in the other rooms started to be turned on –and what was wrong with these people? Didn't they know a spark could be enough for an explosion?-, but rooms 6, 7 and 8 remained in darkness. People started to get out of rooms 1 and 3, and lights were just being turned on in room 5, right the next one to where he was. Apparently, the guests in room 2 where as deeply asleep as he hoped his targets were, or there just weren't any guests to begin with. There was always the possibility that they _did_ have some brains and weren't turning the lights on, one never knew. Room 4 was Martin's, the closest room they had been able to get.

"What's going on?" A man in his middle forties from room three approached the still yelling trio. They all were wearing pants, tennis shoes and thick coats, just making it look like they had been sleeping as well in room 4, and had just come out to warn the rest of the people in the motel. Steve hadn't liked the idea of not having any kind of weapons with them, but they couldn't take any chances. The little gas tank was well hidden in an inner pocket. The man who had approached didn't suspect anything was off. Now, if only everyone would believe that, they would be just fine.

"There's a gas leak in our room. We have just smelled it, and we didn't want to take any chances with anyone else."

"Gas leak? Are you sure? I didn't smell anything in my room", a woman in her early thirties, still trying to put her sweater on from room five added to the now growing crowd of motel guests. The owner of the motel, whose room was beside room number one, came out as well.

Martin approached him, with a terrible worry in his eyes. "Are there people in those rooms? I think I smelled gas in there as well"

"What? Gas leak? I haven't had problems with gas leaks ever!"

"Man, that's beside the point. Are there people in there? Because no one is answering, and it does smell like gas in there."

Of course, Dave's gas had that particular smell, it was just fainter. In fact, this whole circus had been Ray's idea from the beginning, and Steve, Martin and Brennan had played it along. It was a weird plan, but so far, an effective one. The ironic part was that, all this acting and coordination and stuff was never going to be known by the only six people for whom it had been made.

"Yes, there are people in there. Two in each room, young couples, I think."

"Open their rooms, I'm calling the paramedics"

As Martin started talking with the "operator", the man from room three started to try to trash the door of room six, trying to get the people inside out of the lethal gas. The owner of the motel returned to his own room to get the keys.

"But I don't get it," the woman from room five said while her two teenage sons waited in her car, just in case something did go off. If it had been a real gas leak, people shouldn't be so damn close to these rooms, Steve thought while trying to help the man from room three to tear down the room to his own couple. "If there was a leak in your room, why would there be a gas leak in any other room? In fact, why there wasn't in mine? I'm in between of you and them."

Great, a smart lady.

"Maybe it was just pure luck, or bad coincidence for us", Brennan answered right before he broke into room number 7. The Paramedics' sirens started to be heard in the distance.

Steve braced himself to hear someone shouting or Brennan being kicked out of the room or _something_ –that was, after all, the light hair couple room-, but nothing happened. Another woman from room one entered as well to help Brennan with the two persons inside. Martin hung up his cell phone as Steve and the man from room three finally broke into room six. It hadn't passed unnoticed to Steve that it had been harder than he had thought it would be, since they had checked the doors before –at least the one from their room- and it hadn't seemed… solid to them. Of course, he would never know that the door knobs were melted from the inside.

Steve saw the motel owner running towards room eight, the last room that hadn't been opened -apparently there hadn't been anyone at all in room two- and then he directed his attention to his targets while he entered their room in a hurry. He was caught off guard by what he saw. In the years to come, Steve Lewis would look back at this specific moment and think that that was exactly the way a couple should always look. That he had been witness, or more likely an intruder, into the private world of these two persons.

The couple was peacefully sleeping, with the covers up to her shoulders and his upper chest, she dressed in a thick pajama with long sleeves and he with a plain gray t-shirt. She was resting her head over his left shoulder, her chocolate hair framing her face and cascading down to the pillow below her, with her left hand resting over his chest, as near to his heart as it could get. His left arm was embracing her in a protective way over the covers, almost as if he were afraid that someone might steal her if he made the mistake of leaving her unguarded. Whatever these young people were being chased for –he couldn't call them teenagers again- it couldn't be worth it. If they looked so in love while sleeping, how could they do anything wrong or at least wrong enough for so many people chasing them? His eyes caught a glimmer from the young man's left hand, and Steve's eyes opened a little bit. They were married? How old were they again? What have they had to endure to be married so young? These days kids didn't get married, they just hooked up and that was it. But then again, they didn't seem like kids to him anymore.

"You are right, it does smell like gas", the woman from room five entered –the smart lady- shattering his musings about the why his targets were being chased and were also married. The room did smell like gas, but most importantly, the gas had worked. And if he didn't start moving fast and get out of there, it was going to work on him as well.

The ambulances were just parking outside and Steve saw how Martin was carrying the young blond lady out of room seven.

"We have to get them out of here," the woman said moving to the side of the young brunette woman as he moved to the opposite side of the bed. It might had been his imagination, but Steve was sure that when he and the guest of room number five had started to disentangle them after taking the covers off of them, they both had frowned slightly, as if they were sensing that they were being separated.

Two "paramedics" –although Steve had no doubt these people did know about medicine- entered the room and ordered them to get outside. Steve met with Martin and Brennan in front of the room, while all the guests watched with worry and sleepy faces how six other guests were being taken to the hospital in the three ambulances that so conveniently had been near by. He watched from the outside how his own two targets were put on the stretchers and were being checked out. Odd. Sure, the paramedics knew it wasn't real gas so they could take a little time to do the check outs inside the room, but why taking all this care to see if their vitals were all right now? Was Dave afraid that his gas wasn't as harmless as he thought? _And people, if you don't hurry getting the hell out of there, not only you are going to start falling asleep, but these _other_ people are going to start suspecting_. It had seemed like an eternity to Steve the time that they took to finally get out of the room and into the ambulances, but in fact the whole thing hadn't taken more than two minutes. Brennan and Martin's targets had also been checked before being moved into their own transportation.

Later on, Steve knew, the "gas company" would arrive and then would take care of all the belongings of their no longer targets. People would be told to move out in case of some serious trouble –in fact, people were actually already moving fast to get out of there. What would happen to the owner of the motel and all that, was beyond Steve's knowledge –or care- but as he saw the last ambulance disappear up the road, he only wished that his dark-haired couple would be married for a long time. They sure had seemed to deserve it.

* * *

Ray Barlow glanced in the side mirror to confirm that the other two ambulances were still behind him. They had gone silent a couple of miles after leaving the motel. No point in attracting unwanted attention now that things finally seemed to be going their way.

They had been watching these kids for close to two years now. To know that two of them where comfortably sleeping in the back of the ambulance he was driving was a weird feeling. He wasn't relieved, not yet, because there was still too much at stake and too many unknown variables to know if Dave's plan would work in the long term, but he was glad. Glad they were now in their hands. The Special Unit was planning on taking them on the road around 6 a.m. that same day. Ray had found out about that just an hour before. If Steve and his friends hadn't been able to get them…

Steve and his friends. They already knew too much, if only because they knew Dave had a very special interest in their targets, but Ray would have to trust them –just as Dave did- and in the fact that they would keep their mouths shut. If Ray had worked for anyone else, he knew those three wouldn't see the dawn of this day. Actually, if Dave didn't trust them, Ray reflected, it could very well end like that all the same. But this was Dave, and because of who he was and how he did things, people respected him. People worked hard to earn his trust, and to remain in his trust as well. And not only people like Steve and his friends, but more dangerous, skillful and greedy people. Besides, like Dave always said, "It can all be changed, denied or covered up, Ray. Chill out." Dave could have one of the brightest minds on the planet, but he still talked like a child. _He just doesn't care,_ Jake would say_, he's an Aquarius. He'll never care what other people think, including what they think about his way of talking._ Ray rolled his eyes at his imaginary dialogue with his imaginary co-worker. He had been spending way too much time with the good doctor lately, and that obsession of his with astrology was getting on his nerves. Ray liked good, hard facts, things that were tangible, measurable, or studied in any way. In that aspect, Ray sounded more like a doctor than Jake did.

But Jake was the science whiz, and the good, hard fact of alien life was soundly asleep less than three feet behind him. They were tangible, measurable and not all that easy to study. Ray had never been happier in his life that he was plain simple human Ray. But that was beside the point. In the two years that he had known about them, he had learned to respect them.

The first time he had seen them –or a part of the group, anyway- they had been studying for finals. _Finals_. It had been the strangest thing for him to see them acting so normal, so preoccupied, and concentrate on actually studying to graduate. Why would they need a diploma, anyway? They had gathered up information about the subjects, everything they could put their hands on, and he had read it all. In fact, he knew more about these kids concerning on how everyone else viewed them than any one else on this planet, except, of course, Dave. And even though a lot of things didn't add up, when he had first seen them after a year and a half of just reading and seeing pictures about them, he had expected something _else_. He wasn't sure what, but stressing about finals hadn't been it.

Still, they were a tight knot, a unit by all means, for as long as they had shared their own little secret. There were incredible gaps in what they had done for months, changes in the dynamics of the group, and with their families. Things so out of character –like robbing a convenience store for no apparent purpose at all- that he was soon as hooked up in the puzzle that were these kids as Dave was. There were so many questions Dave was always asking out loud, that sometimes Ray thought that his friend was going to knock on their doors, sit down, and simply start asking them to their faces. He was sure Dave had thought about that too. But Dave wasn't a… _bringer,_ Ray thought absently. Dave didn't get the informants to headquarters. He had messengers to gather all he wanted to know and still keep a safe distance, if not the whole anonymity, with whatever he was studying. But something had changed.

Sure, the fact that suddenly the Special Unit was reformed again and trying to shoot at them on their graduation day –and to think they had studied and stressed that hard, Ray had thought sadly for a brief second- was one of the things, but something _else_ had happened, it was just that Dave hadn't said anything about whatever that had been. It was as if watching them had gone from a hobby to a duty. They had lost them since the graduation day and it had taken them nearly two months to find them again. _That_ was impressive, especially with Dave's resources. It was even more impressive when they had kept losing their trail for days, often for weeks, and three months ago for a whole month. They moved fast, and they moved quietly, but they were no professionals, they didn't know how to live with the pressure of being hunted day after day. Not like this, anyway. Eventually, they were going to make a huge mistake, and the Special Unit was waiting for that.

For those months, Dave had been indecisive about whether or not to bring them aboard. It was as if he were trying to see how dangerous they really were. But aliens or no aliens, they were acting like teenagers. The Special Unit wouldn't have had to wait too long.

Still, whatever they were, they were loyal to each other. And that Ray respected a lot. He was sure they would never abandon anyone, and if it came to it, they would die defending each other as well.

"How far are we?" one of the paramedics, John, asked him while he sat in front with him. Actually, of the six paramedics only three were actual paramedics. The rest were very certified doctors. Ray never ceased to wonder of the variety of people that owed Dave a favor.

"We are about twenty minutes from the landing area. Why? Is there a problem?"

"No, everything is fine. I'm just curious. And a little bit anxious I guess… I don't like flying all that much."

_Yeah, but once you see your bank account, I'm sure you are going to be more than happy about having taken that flight, _Ray thought silently. He knew John didn't like flying, but he also knew the paramedic didn't have a phobia about it either. He would do fine; otherwise, he wouldn't have been cleared out for this mission.

John started to fidget beside him. Ray knew the guy was being eaten up with a thousand questions about why would they snatch six teenagers out of a motel room, go through all the problems with the gas leak story, hire actual paramedics and doctors to take them from the ambulances to an improvised heliport in the middle of nowhere, for a flight to the other middle of nowhere in Minnesota. Especially when the only thing he had to do was to just watch their vitals. Of course, if something did happen to any of the six kids, then they would have to do something more than just watch, but chances were –as they hoped- very low on that "something" happening. _Well, sorry John, no answers in here for you._

John started talking about the Super Bowl, and Ray easily went with the conversation for the remaining twenty minutes of the drive. If John wanted to pretend everything was fine, he was doing a good job. He had stopped fidgeting and apparently he had decided that whether or not he wanted some answers, there was nothing he could do to get them. It was amazing how people forgot about other people when it was more convenient. After all, for all John knew, they could very well be kidnapping these kids for ransom, but that, of course, wasn't John's problem. Besides, if morality was a real problem for John –and it wasn't much for most of the people who owed Dave something- he could always tell himself that Dave wasn't that kind of guy. Or gave himself a pep talk or something.

Ray always thought that when he was traveling with someone who was working for Dave for one mission only. What did these guys think about Dave? A terrorist? An opportunist? A business man? A guardian angel? Most of them were like Steve. People who were hired for even weirder things that they just didn't question, or didn't question out loud anyway, or that just simply didn't care. And that was perfectly fine with Ray. For the right price, you could always get someone to do the job. For the right price and _obligation_, that "someone" appeared a lot quicker and was a lot more loyal than to just hire anyone for money. Dave knew that. And Ray thought, just like Steve had thought an hour before, that that was why Dave always made sure the best owed him something.

Parking a few feet from the improvised but very neat heliport, Ray watched as everyone was taken down from the ambulances and carefully put inside one of the three red motionless helicopters. Each one would depart twenty minutes or so from the other, flying in three different routes, and getting to the camp around the same hour. If Ray could have had it his way, they would be flying to headquarters in England and not in Minnesota, but Dave hadn't like the idea. _They are going to freak out if they are not in the U.S._, Dave had said after considering it for a while. They were going to freak out about so many things, Ray didn't see the point, but he hadn't argued any further.

It was still before 4:30 a.m. when Ray boarded the last of the three helicopters, making sure that nothing that mattered was going to be left behind. Before dawn hit the hills, someone was going to take care of the ambulances –around the same time the gas company was going to take care of the three rooms in the motels- and the kids he had watched over the past two years would be gone without a trace. For all the FBI Special Unit was going to know, these helicopters could very well be spaceships taking them to their home planet. _Well, maybe not home _planet_, but it is indeed home to me_, Ray thought as the helicopter started to fly through the night sky.


	2. The Blue Room

**II**

**The Blue Room**

Max Evans started to stir from his sleep, but he wouldn't open his eyes. Just not yet. He couldn't remember when had been the last time that he had slept so well, so deeply, and he was just holding to the last gasp of this wonderful feeling of being… _rested._ If he had been able to, he would have returned to it and slept a little bit more, just a little bit more… but wakefulness was starting to win over. There was no turning back.

He couldn't remember any of his dreams, which was odd. He always remembered at least a little bit of them when he was still in that space between sleeping and waking. He had read ages ago –around the time Isabel had started to dreamwalk- that one could only remember thirty seconds of the entirety of the dreams one had –and that had relaxed him a little bit, because it meant Isabel's incursions might not be remembered at all. But the point was that he always remembered _something._

He moved his head a little to dig a bit more into his pillow, noticing that he hadn't thought the bed was so comfortable the night before. Of course, the night before he had been too exhausted to complain about anything at all –much less if the bed was comfortable or not- and he had just wanted to sleep with Liz at his side.

Max didn't need to reach out with his arm to know that Liz wasn't in the room with him. It had happened before that she would wake up earlier than he did and just went to the other rooms, especially when she and Maria had time to chat a little bit. Except that now that he was really waking up he couldn't sense her nearby either. In fact, he realized in an instant, he couldn't sense her at all. He opened his eyes immediately.

And that almost made his heart stop immediately as well.

Since he was face up over the bed, the first thing he saw was the ceiling, and his eyes wouldn't move themselves from it. It took him a second to register that the walls weren't white, but that they were blue, which was enough for him to know that he was not in the motel room, definitely not over the motel room bed either, and that Liz was nowhere to be sensed at all. He froze.

If this was a dream, he needed to wake up from it, _fast_. But he knew that this was no dream. He just couldn't bring himself to face what this really was. His neurons just wouldn't process the fact that they had been, finally, caught. They had barely escaped from the Special Unit three days ago, but now they were here. _Not 'us', _Max thought, _maybe just me_.

He had the wild impulse to shout out to whoever was out there –because he was sure _someone_ was outside these walls- that they had made a mistake, that they were wrong about him, that this wasn't fair, that— But his throat wouldn't move, and deep down he knew that it wouldn't work anyway. It hadn't worked the first time, he bitterly thought, and it wouldn't work this time either.

He kept staring at the ceiling, feeling how his breath increased at a very fast rhythm, just like his heart had been doing since he had come to terms with reality two seconds before, so he closed his eyes and made his hands into fists to get a grip. He was not going to freak out. _That_ hadn't led him to anywhere the first time around either. He just needed to convince his body and a good part of his mind about it, though. He tried to let his mind blank before he hyperventilated. It seemed to work, and though his muscles weren't relaxing at all, he felt a little bit of control returning to him. A quick subtle test to feel a spark of energy in his hands failed, and that told him that he was powerless. No surprise there. At least that explained why he couldn't sense Liz, but that knowledge didn't do anything good to ease his fears.

Max absently moved his right hand to scratch a little itch in his left arm, and in the middle of the movement he realized he wasn't strapped to the bed. He opened his eyes and then he noticed that he was fully dressed as well, with the clothes he had been wearing that same day. Except that he had changed to go to sleep –he did remember that- so how come he now was wearing the same clothes?

He slowly started to sit up in the bed. He also had his watch with him, and according to it, it was six thirty-eight in the evening… and that it was, he realized a second later, three days later than when he had gone to sleep. So now he knew when, he just didn't know _where_ he was. He stared at his watch for a whole minute as if the thing was going to give him the answers. He was trying very hard to not lose it in here, and he was starting to feel panic rising in his throat, almost paralyzing him again like two minutes before. Finally snapping out of it, he slowly lowered his arm and took a good look at his room.

It was a very small rectangular room, around six feet by nine feet, with his bed put on one side –the bed occupied the whole space of the six feet, so there wasn't any room for anyone walking- and, as he expected, there were no doors, windows or any way of seeing anything outside the four walls. Although there was no one in the room with him, he could feel eyes watching him all the same.

The light in the room was white, but it was sort of dim, clear enough for him to see, but not bright enough to hurt his eyes. They were common white light bulbs, he guessed, though he could just see the plain roof, which was about eight feet from the floor. The walls had some sort of soft material on them, as if the whole room was covered with a blue carpet. And they were bare.

In the left corner in front of him was a full size mirror, from floor to roof, in which he could see himself sitting in the middle of the bed. He didn't need to go and try to break it to know it wouldn't. Sure enough it was one of those mirrors that were in police stations. Maybe the feeling of being watched was being caused by someone standing right behind it. And the impulse to shout out something came rushing back to him again. But he tightened his jaw. Sooner or later someone was going to start talking to him, and then he would get to shout out knowing someone was listening. He just needed to wait.

However, his attention was diverted from there when his gaze went to the right corner in front of him. There were some sort of book shelves, built into the middle of the wall. But what caught his attention was that there were books inside it, and when he started to read the titles, Max lost the little control he had gained over his breathing and stopped it altogether. Those weren't just any books, they were _his_ books. The books he had read more than twice, that he had read over summers, taken on road trips with his family when he was younger. They were neatly placed in two rows, ordered by author, just as he would have put them. He started to breathe, fast, and his heart started beating fast as well. Right beside the books in the lower shelf were some CD's, neatly arranged in a tower. Max knew without being able to read the titles that they were also going to be _his_ CD's. Below the book shelf there was a closed drawer. He guessed he was being encouraged to explore. How thoughtful of them.

With his heart still beating crazily inside his chest, Max stood up, cautiously putting his weight on his legs. He wasn't fooling himself; he knew his whole body was in full alert mode, and that doing fast movements wasn't going to help him at all. When he was about to take his first step, he saw that his sneakers were beside his bed, with the laces untied. Liz always teased him about how he always undone them at night, and the time and precision he took on tying them in the morning. "God is in the details" someone had said, and now Max was thinking that someone was playing God with him.

Max took a deep breath and steadied himself. His eyes went to the mirror in the left corner. Whoever was watching was waiting for a reaction from him, but the fact was that he no longer had a clue as to how to react. He no longer wanted to shout or go and see what was in the drawer. All he wanted right then was to at least feel Liz, to know that she was all right. If he was the only one caught, then Isabel wouldn't take too long to try to contact him, but that was wishful thinking, and he knew it. He felt the adrenaline leaving his body. He was losing the will to fight even before the fight had started. You can do this, he coached himself, you can stay in control, find out what happened to her and the others and find a way to get out of here. You just have to keep a clear mind. He was about to argue with himself about how can one keep a clear mind when your world was falling apart, when he heard something. Something that lightened and heightened his spirit almost as much as hearing Liz's voice would have. He heard Maria's voice. Or more precisely, he heard Maria's shouting voice.

"I swear if you put one hand over him, you'll wish you had never brought me here to begin with! You are just a bunch of cowards and idiots! You just come in here and—

"Maria!" Max went to the right wall, and started shouting himself. He didn't care how relieved or how scared his voice sounded, he was just plain happy to hear someone he knew. "Maria! Can you hear me?"

"Max? Oh my God, Max is that you?" Max heard how Maria moved to the wall, and he could almost sense her own relief to know that he was right in the next room.

"Yes, Maria, it's me. Are you all right? Is Liz with you?"

"No, Liz isn't here, I'm all alone. But yes, I think I'm all right. I just woke up in this creepy blue room, with personal stuff all around me, and it hit me that you guys would be in trouble. Is Michael with you?"

"No," Max said in a lower tone. He had hoped so bad that Liz had been there with Maria.

"Max, are _you_ all right? And don't give me some crap if you are not, you hear me? I really want to know. So if you are feeling dizzy, weak, dry-eyed or whatever, just tell me."

Max looked straight at the wall, almost as if he could see through it and see that fire in Maria's eyes, those eyes that wouldn't let you lie to her even if you were telling her the worst of news. And Max knew exactly what Maria was thinking: If he wasn't all right, then Michael probably wasn't either.

"Yes, Maria. I'm all right. I feel fine. My powers are gone, though."

"Yeah, that much I figured, or you would have busted a hole in the wall to see if Liz was in here. You can't sense her, can you?"

Through the months that they had been on the run, Max and Liz's bond had strengthened, right to the point that when they split, they would know that things were alright with the other by just sensing. They couldn't really communicate thoughts or ideas, just plain feelings, but who knew what they would do with time. Except that right now, just plain feelings would be enough for Max.

"No…", he answered with a whisper.

"Max, you there?" Obviously Maria hadn't heard him.

"No", he said in a more clear voice. "I can't sense her."

"Max, you know she's fine, right? I mean, no amount of drugs or whatever would stop you from sensing her if she needed you. You know that."

Max rested his forehead on the wall. Did he know that? Was Liz just in some blue room sensing his emotions? Was she really just fine just like they were? In that instant Max was tempted to glare at Maria, partly because she couldn't see him, and partly because he didn't want hope right now. He wanted answers, and he had to focus on that. If he let other thoughts –other horrible images- get into his mind, he would lose it. And he had learned a long, _long_ time ago that losing it was a luxury he couldn't afford.

"Maria, when you said 'personal stuff' before, what did you mean?"

"Well, there are two little cypress oil bottles on a shelf in the other corner of the room –as if sniffing them is gonna help- and some books that I had at home. There's one that I even ordered before we graduated, and I never got to see it, till now I mean."

"Yeah, there are books in here too."

"But the thing that really makes me angry is that there is a replica of Alex's guitar as well. I swear, when someone gets in here, I'm going to take it and hit them right in the middle of their stupid heads."

Max smiled. He had not only spent a whole summer with Maria three years ago, but they had spent a lot of time together these past few months as well to picture exactly her face as she was saying it. She was way beyond pissed off at this moment, but he just couldn't feel pity for the guy that was going to enter that door. Max also knew that she was scared. Scared for Michael and Isabel and himself. He wondered if she had realized that she was in danger too.

"Max, I know it's a stupid question but, what do they want?"

Max stared at the wall. It did sound like a stupid question, but he knew what she meant. Why go to all the trouble to bring in all this stuff they used to have?

"I don't know. Maybe it's a test."

"A test to see what? If we recognized our past lives?"

"Could be worse," Max answered while he turned his attention to the shelves. He hadn't noticed before that in the upper shelf was something else. A house. A toy house. He swiftly moved to stand in front of it, and as he was reaching to take it, Maria spoke again.

"Do you think they are okay?"

Max didn't answer right away. Instead, he took the toy house and stared at it. It wasn't _his_ toy house, but an exact replica. His had had a little scratch below one of the windows. This one had it too, but it wasn't the same. He had stared way too many times at his own toy house, wondering how he was going to get back home, to not know it.

"Max?"

"I don't know Maria, but if you and I are fine, there's a good chance they are." He put it back in its place. "How did you know the guitar was a replica?"

"I passed one hand over its strings before starting to shout, and it didn't sound the same. I spent too much time tuning it during the last months of senior year to not know it. The books are from the library though. Exactly the same ones I checked out. God, there are even elementary books in here."

Max's eyes wandered down, to the drawer, and he steadied himself before opening it. He put his right hand on the handle and slowly slid it open. There were a number of things inside of it. A few _Scientific America _magazines; an astronomy map he had used when he was nine; the pocket knife Liz had given him four Christmases before; a worn out piece of paper with the Spanish lyrics he had sung to her, and a lot of other things he had kept, little personal treasures that told a story of who he was and what he had done. But all this he registered in a blur, because in the middle of the drawer, in a black square paper, with silver ink was drawn the royal seal of Antar. For the second time since he had woken up, he stopped breathing. This wasn't a test, this was a demonstration. A demonstration that was saying 'I know you', loud and clear.

"Max, how did this happen? How couldn't… we foresee it? I went to sleep last night and I woke up in here."

Maria's words entered the fog in his head as a distant sound, and it took him a couple of seconds to understand them. He didn't take his eyes off the drawer.

"We went to sleep three days ago. At least, that's what my watch says."

"What? Three days? How the hell did we lose three days? No wait, don't answer that… You know what the other creepy thing is? These clothes. I went to sleep with my pajamas, and now I'm dressed like yesterday—I mean, like three days ago."

The thick fog that was surrounding his thoughts wasn't getting thinner fast enough. It took Max a few seconds into thinking straight what Maria was saying, almost as if he were hypnotized by what he saw in front of him. Facts. He needed facts, he reminded himself.

"You too? What else?" While he was still looking at the five dots making a V, his brain started to make questions. How could they know that? And not only about the seal, about everything that was in there.

"What else? Isn't that creepy enough for you? Max? Max, are you there?"

Max closed the drawer slowly, still trying to piece this puzzle together. But a part of his mind told him that if he didn't answer Maria –even if it were just on a yes/no basis- the girl would kill him. Right now, silence was the one thing that would scare them the most.

"I don't know. I'm just trying to figure this thing out." He was about to tell her about what was in his drawer, when Maria's urgent voice came through the wall.

"Max! Max! Michael has just woken up."

"What?"

"Michael. I've just felt it."

True, for the past three or four months, Michael had started to feel Maria's emotions in a way that resembled the way he and Liz felt each other. It wasn't the same though, because Michael _and_ Maria were just way too explosive sometimes. They got too intense too fast, enough to knock themselves out if they actually went through that level of connection in any other way than the slow one. But it hadn't been often, and it had been only Michael who could feel Maria. They had guessed –Michael and he- that it might have to do in part because Maria hadn't been… _changed_ by Max, and in part because even after everything they had been through, Michael didn't want Maria feeling everything he did.

"_It'll just be too much, you know? She's already in danger because of us, and she shouldn't be. Besides I don't want to freak her out feeling what I feel. It's bad enough that I'm scared for her and that she's scared for me. And to overall both feeling each other's fears like that too? No Max, I don't want that."_

Max had tried to tell him that it wasn't like _that_, because he could sense Liz's fear just as he knew she was sensing his, but they both took comfort from each other, tried to be strong for each other. But part of the truth also was that they did tune their connection down a little from time to time. Just to have some space from each other. Even _they_ needed that. And Michael was right; it could be really hard to feel the other panicking when you were panicking… Still, even if they tuned it down sometimes, they were never really without each other's presence. That was, of course, until now. And right now discovering that Maria could sense Michael was a relief. He wasn't going to question why it was happening now or how much she could feel him, because like his father liked to say, 'you just don't question luck'. He forgot everything about the black sheet and the royal seal, and turned to the wall again in a rush.

"Is he okay? Can you tell?"

Maria didn't answer for a few seconds, and it took all his will to not start punching the wall just to get rid of his nervous energy. Instead, he put his hands against the wall and put his whole weight against them, as if he were going to push it down. It was better than just standing there watching the blue space. He hadn't even noticed the nervous energy building up inside him until now when he was waiting for her answer. No wonder Michael was always punching things. _Max, Maria is a total drama queen_, he could almost hear Liz saying with a laugh. Except that he knew that Maria wasn't doing this on purpose, and that Liz wasn't saying that either. _Please Liz, be all right._

"Well, if you call pissed off and scared to death okay, then he's fine."

Max put his forehead against the wall and sighed. 'Pissed off and scared to death' did sound like Michael. He knew it sounded like him too. Was Liz getting his feelings as well?

"Max, what are we supposed to do? Sit down and wait? Because if that's it, I can't. I need to see Michael right now. _He_ needs to see me right now. God, I feel as if Michael is about to—to—explode or implode or tear something apart—I don't know. Max we have to do something!"

Max stared at the wall feeling more helpless now than in his entire existence. And boy, he did know about feeling helpless. But having Maria behind that wall, almost seeing her beautiful green eyes welling up with tears of anger and frustration and fear was breaking his spirit. What was he suppose to say? 'Everything's going to be alright?' Right now he couldn't even sense Liz to know if she was 'pissed off and scared to death'. At least Maria had that.

"I know Maria. I know we have to do something. But right now I don't—"

A muffled sound came from the other wall in the room, right at his back. Max barely turned his head to the right to see if he could hear it again. He didn't know what it was, but it had been _something_. Now, was it something _good_ or something he definitely didn't want to know about?

"Max? Max!" Maria was getting frustrated on the other side of the wall.

"Wait, Maria, I think I heard something."

"Something like what?"

"Give me a minute to see if I can hear it again."

Max straightened himself up and turned the 180 degrees to face the other wall. It took him three steps to be in front of it, and as he tentatively started to raise his hand to touch it –almost as if he were expecting to find something movable there- he heard the sound again. But this time, it made complete sense.

"Someone in there!" Kyle's voice came through the wall still sounding muffled, but Max couldn't mistake it. It didn't even take him a second to answer him.

"Kyle! It's me, Max"

"Max? I can't believe it! Wait till I tell Isabel!"

"Isabel? Is she with you?" Max's heart started to beat anxiously, eagerly, his voice carrying a hint of relief. Apparently, when luck wasn't questioned, it stayed with you.

"She's in a room next to mine on the other wall. It was her idea that I should see if someone was on this side of the room. I'm telling her now".

"Kyle!"

But Kyle didn't answer back, obviously having gone to the other wall of his room.

"Max? Don't leave me waiting here, for Pete's sake!"

Max turned immediately again, and doubting for a split second if he should stay there waiting for Kyle or go to Maria, he went to the other wall.

"It's Kyle, he's in a room next to mine, and he says Isabel is in another room next to his", he wasn't surprised to hear the joy in his voice. He wasn't surprised at all to feel the little smile on his lips.

"Are they okay? Do they know anything else?"

"I'm going to ask him now. But you should check the other wall in your room and see if someone's there."

Max went back to the left wall, and he got there in time to hear Kyle calling his name. It didn't pass unnoticed by him that it was a lot easier to hear Maria than Kyle. He had to almost shout out to the wall for Kyle to hear him, and he was pretty sure Kyle was having the same trouble. It was as if the wall between them was thicker than the one between his and Maria's rooms.

"I'm here. Maria's in the room on my right wall. Are you okay? Is Liz with you or with my sister?"

"No, it's just the two of us. But we are okay. Well, Isabel said she was, but are you okay Max?"

"Yes, both Maria and I are okay. Although my powers are gone."

Kyle paused for a few seconds, and in the distance he could hear Maria yelling in her own room. He hoped against hope that Liz would be next to her. Finally, Kyle answered, but he did it very slowly, accentuating every word.

"Yeah. Her. _Own_. Powers. Are. Gone".

Max stared at the wall frowning. Why would he say it in such a peculiar way? Was he afraid Max would miss the words? Sure he sounded muffled, but it wasn't all that bad. And then it hit him. Kyle was afraid Max would miss the _message_ implied in his words.

Three months before, it had finally happened. Kyle had started his "buzzing and crackling like tinfoil in a microwave" process, as he had so eloquently said months ago, and it had been a really scary moment for them all. Especially since they had no idea what powers Kyle would have. Would he be able to see the future just as Liz could? Or a power they already had? Or would it be something completely different? Kyle had been freaked out and said he didn't want anything to do with green weird electricity or anything green for that matter, or getting flashes, or exploding things. Although he did make a comment about the benefits of dreamwalking for which Isabel had playfully slapped him. But they still weren't sure what powers Kyle had at this point. The only thing they did know was that at least he wasn't "glowing in the dark" anymore.

And now Max knew by Kyle's tone that what he meant was that _he_ had his own powers, or whatever they were in this stage. Of course, that didn't mean that Kyle could burst a hole in the wall and get them all out of there, or anything useful for the moment for that matter, but it did give him hope that Liz could have hers. Sure, the love of his life couldn't really burst a hole in the wall just because she felt like it, but under extreme pressure, Liz's outbursts of energy did come. At least she could defend herself if it came to it.

"I understand Kyle. But the main thing is that you are okay. Listen, do you know anything about how we got here?"

"What? You don't know anything either? We just went to sleep and then I woke up in here. Isabel said the same. Hey, she wants to know about your room—wait, she's saying something else."

Silence followed Kyle's last statement. Seconds went by, and when Kyle finally returned calling his name to see if he was there, Maria also started to talk to him from the other side of the room.

"Kyle, wait, Maria's now talking"

"Max, Max, Max, Max, no, this is important!"

"Just give me a second," Max didn't miss the urgency in Kyle's tone, but he needed to know if Maria had heard something. If she had found _someone. _

"No one's answering, and I yelled with all my might. Now, what is Kyle saying? Is Isabel all right? Is Michael with her? Because I think I've felt relief coming from him."

Max tried hard to not let Maria's news crumble his spirit just yet. It was getting difficult to tell her what Kyle knew and to ask Kyle what Maria wanted plus what he wanted plus answering what he had asked before. He was thinking about that when he answered her back.

"No, Kyle said Isabel and he are alone in their own rooms, but that they are fine as well. Are you sure Michael is feeling relief?" If Michael was fine, chances increased that Liz was fine as well. He had to remind himself that he couldn't let himself go into thinking that she wasn't, because if he let that thought in his mind, he would not think about anything else… and it would just consume him, not letting him think about how the hell he was going to get her and everyone else out of here.

"Hey, it's not as if I do this everyday, you know. But yeah, I guess he's somewhat less explosive or something."

"Max!" Kyle called, obviously yelling pretty loud for Max to hear him.

"Maria, wait a second, Kyle has something urgent to tell me." Without waiting for Maria to answer him back, he moved again to the left wall of his room.

"Kyle, I'm here."

"Liz is beside Isabel!"

Max's heart made a double beat at Kyle's words, and for one second it was as if a hundred questions wanted to get out at the same time, so they just stuck together in the middle of his throat.

"Max? Max? Did you hear? Come on, don't freeze on me now!"

Finally, his questions took a number to get out, and he was able to ask them then.

"Is she okay? Did she say something out of the ordinary? Is Michael with her? How—"

"Max! I'm no freaking secretary to write it all down! You know, between you and your sister you are going to make me go crazy!"

Max stared at the wall with his mouth half open with an unspoken question. What was wrong with Kyle? This was Liz they were talking about, for crying out loud! But some tiny little part of his brain did understand that Kyle couldn't answer him all that he wanted to know at once. This was going to be a very chaotic exchange of questions and answers if they didn't find some way of communication that actually worked. Max sighed with exasperation.

"Is she okay?" he asked again, this time giving Kyle time to answer back.

"Yes, but she's really worried about you because she knows how you're feeling, if you know what I mean." This time, Max didn't lose time in getting the message implied there. If Liz could feel him then she also had her own powers. At least whoever had them knew Liz wasn't one of them. Who the hell had thought that she was part alien to begin with had always been a question to which he had wanted an answer.

But besides that, Max tried to calm himself a little bit so Liz could sense that coming from him. When he tried to block all his fear so she wouldn't be twice freaked out, he couldn't tell if he was doing it or not. So that was what had happened to Michael. He just couldn't block Maria because he didn't know if he was doing it or not.

"Okay, tell her that I'm okay and that I love her, would you?"

"Sure, just let me get all the messages across from everybody else. Besides that, Michael is at the end of the row besides Liz's room. And yes, he's okay too. Isabel is insisting on knowing about your room, because ours are way too high on the creep thermometer, and Michael wants to know how Maria's doing since he can't sense her." Kyle paused for a few seconds, "Yeah, I think that's it. Now, go and ask Maria and then come back and tell me her and your answers so I don't have to come here and go back there again with all that. This Q and A is getting freaking biblical every time I get to one of these walls."

Max turned around, but in the middle of his room he stopped. Something in Kyle's words made a lot of sense in actually fixing their communication problem. So he went back for just a second.

"Kyle! Tell everyone to stop asking or saying anything for just a minute." Before he went to Maria's wall, he heard Kyle again.

"What? What are you talking about?"

"You hear me Kyle. Just do it. I'll explain in a second."

Without waiting for anything else, Max moved swiftly to the other side of his room.

"Maria, Michael is beside Liz who is beside Isabel. We are all fine."

"Are you sure? Are they really fine? I mean, what else did Kyle say?"

"Yes, I'm sure, but listen, we need to get an order to what we want to know and make everyone else know the answers as well, or we are just going to end up asking the same things and getting messages back and forth while losing valuable time."

"What do you mean? How do we do that?"

"I'm not quite sure, but for starters, let's get straight what you and I know, so I can pass it to Kyle and he can do the same to all the others, and then wait to hear what they have to say back."

"All we know? Maybe we should break it in sections or something."

Max thought for a second that they really didn't know all that much to begin with, but he did have to admit that it was going to be harder as the questions and answers began accumulating. So breaking them down did sound like a good idea.

"Okay. You're right. But first of all, let's see what we are going to pass first. We all know that we are okay, that's an important thing. Isabel, Michael and I are out of powers." Max paused. How could he tell Maria that Kyle and Liz had theirs? He decided that there was no way he could tell her that so that no other ears would hear. So he let that piece of information out. He just hoped Maria wouldn't ask it.

"Are they in creepy blue rooms too?"

"I think so, but I don't know for sure. Anyway, we are not asking anything now, we are just saying what we know."

"Okay. What else are you going to tell Kyle?"

"That it's been three days since we last were awake. Anything else you think might be useful?"

"The clothes. Ask him about what are they wearing. Or just tell him that we are wearing the same stuff. You know what I mean. And Max, could you tell Michael that I love him?" Maria's voice was full of apprehension, of fear when she had said that, almost as if she were afraid that it would be the last time, or the last chance she would have to say it. Max closed his eyes. He knew exactly what she was feeling, but after taking a deep breath to steady his emotions inside –and God, he would give anything to feel Liz's right now- he went and passed Maria's message first, and then explained to Kyle what he was trying to do and what they knew.

So the very slow process to get the information from one another began. It took them around an hour and forty five minutes to get straight that everyone was indeed in a blue room, wearing the same clothes they'd been wearing the day they had been caught, with personal things that they used to have or liked at one point or another in their lives. From Michael's complete collection of Metallica's CD's and the DVD of Braveheart, to Kyle's first Buddhism book, or Isabel's favorite brand of lipstick. Liz said there was a blank replica of her journal too. No one said anything about any alien symbols though, and Max decided to wait till everything was settled down to say something about it.

The only thing that appeared to be missing was Liz's engagement ring. He had his own wedding ring, just as Liz said she had her golden band, so it was just that. Isabel had hers though. It intrigued Max just as much as it intrigued everyone else.

Besides that, everyone felt fine, had woken up with a feeling of being rested and had pretty much guessed immediately that they had been caught. Liz had said that she had felt him waking up and that his feelings –she was kind enough to not say his _panic_- had woken her up. When she had finally shout out to see if he could hear her –after all, she did know that he was nearby- Michael had heard her. It had been pretty much the same with Kyle and Isabel. After Kyle was done walking the small room, he had started to shout out for someone to tell him what was going on. Isabel had heard him then, and after a brief exchange she had suggested that maybe someone else was behind the other walls.

It was Liz who first hinted that the walls being thicker or thinner were on purpose. She had no problem listening to Michael, but it was hard to hear Isabel, just as it was hard for him to hear Kyle. Of course, if they were like that on purpose, what did that mean? Maria did tell him from time to time that Michael was getting really impatient about the slowness of it all, so Max asked him what he thought they should do, to which Kyle had answered that Michael had said he had no idea. In fact, no one had any idea. And that had started the questions every one was eager to ask.

_Who_ had caught them? _Why_ bother with all their stuff? And the unspoken one that was on everyone's minds: _How_ were they going to get out of there?

"Michael and Isabel said that it could be the FBI playing tricks with us, but Liz and I think this is way too fancy for the jerks from the government", Kyle was telling him, "though Liz said that it might just be another agency, just not the Special Unit." Maria was thinking pretty much the same thing Liz was.

Max then decided that it was time to tell them about the royal seal. After three or four minutes, Maria told him that Michael was way off the scale of pissed off, and that if he could please, please stop pissing off Michael because it wasn't a nice feeling. After another three or four minutes, Kyle returned with everyone else's answer.

"Hey, Isabel said that Liz told her that Michael is furious at you. Isabel also says that what did they give you for you to forget mentioning it before, because she's going to kill you if you have a clear mind and yet decided to not say that before. Oh, and neither of them had very nice voices, although I'm just assuming on Michael's behalf."

"I didn't want to scare any of you. We had to see the basics first and then try to figure out things. The royal seal would have just complicated everything in everyone's minds before. And—

"Max. Stop it. I've already told you I'm no freaking secretary writing it all down. You know I won't tell them all that, so why don't you tell me exactly what you think that means so I can pass it on, uh?"

Max sighed heavily. He was getting tired of going from one wall to the other, and was getting more frustrated by not having any answers at all. But he was not eager to have someone coming to his room to tell him either. He instantly blocked the images that threatened to invade his mind about the time he had had to wait when he had been first captured. He was sure Liz didn't need to feel that as well.

"Maybe whoever that has us isn't… human."

"What? You think there are aliens involved in this?"

"It might be a possibility. I don't think the Special Unit ever found out about the meaning of the symbols, or even ever saw the symbols to begin with." After telling Maria what he had told Kyle and a couple of minutes had passed, Max also began to wonder about another possibility. Maybe whoever had put that there didn't know the meaning of it either. Maybe it had been just pure luck. But then again, why that specific symbol? The spiral galaxy was a much common pattern. It even looked like it meant something more important too. Nasedo had used it at the night festival years ago. Surely the Special Unit had a record of that.

It took them another hour to get everyone's opinions on how probable it was that this was alien related or not. If it were, who? Khivar? The Skins? Someone else? If it weren't, how much did their captors know? Was it really just a coincidence? Why only in Max's room? Why not pick out other symbols for Isabel and/or Michael? And of course, by the end of the discussion –right around the time when Max didn't think he could get more tense and Maria had told him that now she understood why Michael didn't want her feeling his emotions- they didn't have any straight answers. Just plain conjectures. It was clear that whoever had them had to show himself –or herself- sooner or later, and that waiting was their only option right now. Everything that was left to say was just pure comfort for one another. Gosh, they couldn't even begin to try to figure out a way to get out, especially since they couldn't discuss Liz and Kyle's powers out loud. They could very well be their last chance, but the element of surprise was a need. Max did wonder if whoever was watching did know about those… _changes_, but there was no way he could know that either.

So, after yet another hour had passed for them to get to that point, Max finally sat on the bed against the right wall, with his head looking at the roof, his knees almost to his chest, clasping his hands around them, and started to talk to Maria about anything he could think of. Anything to make this wait from hell weight less heavy on her and on him. That had been the last thing they had decided. Michael and Liz and Isabel and Kyle were doing the same right now. If any of them had any other idea or comment, they would pass it along. The last message they had passed was how much they cared for each other.

"Do you think they will starve us to death?" Maria asked out of the blue.

"I don't think they would have gone through all this trouble to starve us to death, Maria. Why, are you hungry?"

"Not really, but I'm really thirsty. All this talking takes its toll, you know."

Water. Maria had had it easy being on the extreme end of the row. Just like Michael. But everyone in between had had to shout out to one another because of the thicker walls. Kyle had complained several times about the lack of a glass of water and had joked about prisoners' rights being violated. Max was thirsty too, but he was trying hard to not think about it. Just like he was trying not to think about going to the bathroom, because once one hit that particular idea, one just couldn't stop the feeling from coming. Thankfully, Maria didn't comment on that either. Probably she had reached the same conclusion.

"You know, talking about the trouble they went through, couldn't they have brought us a damn game so we wouldn't be bored to death? Seriously, Liz and I used to play lots and lots of those board games."

Max and Isabel both had a one hundred dollar bill from Monopoly in their drawers. They had played with their parents regularly when they had been kids, and less often when they had been growing up the last years. Kyle had a baseball ball, and he had guessed it was there because he had been in Little League when he had been a kid. Lucky Kyle was probably bouncing it against the walls right now. Still, he had to keep it a light conversation. He was done with being serious and was trying really hard to send some calmness to Liz.

"Well, Maria, can you imagine us playing Monopoly right now? I mean, how would you pay the bills and keep straight who has what property?"

"Easy. Liz will know who owns what properties and you will know who owes what to whom and how much. Isabel would kick our asses, Kyle will try to steal from the bank and Michael will be so bored to death by the middle of the game that he would take me out of the room—I mean, conversation- since I'll be bored to death as well. Since we are both in the extremes, you four can still play, so there won't be any trouble at all. But of course, they couldn't think we might actually find a way to play it, so they didn't put a Monopoly game in each room. Idiots."

Max smiled at Maria's comment. He could picture it so well in his mind. They had played some games during the months they had been on the run, mostly cards, but it was hard to get the six of them to sit down and play. Someone was always on the look out, or driving, or they just hadn't been together. If they could get out of this one –correction,_ when_ they got out of this one- he would make sure they sat down and played at least one game of Monopoly just in honor of this conversation. So he could hear Maria say 'I told you so' while Michael was dragging her out of the room by the middle of the game.

It didn't matter to him when a tiny little voice told him inside that it might take years before he could fulfill that promise.

* * *

AN: The part that said "There were a number of things inside of it. A few Scientific America magazines;" was used as a small homage to one of my all time favorite fanfic authors, Danilise, who was co-writer of the Future Arc and Roswell Elementary series. She specifically used the Scientific America magazines reference on her fic Breathe

The line "Kyle had complained several times about the lack of a glass of water and had joked about prisoners' rights being violated," was inspired by Roswell High Book #5, but if you haven't read it, I won't spoil it ;)


	3. A Deal of a Lifetime

**III  
A Deal of a Lifetime**

It was close to midnight when Ray entered the room where Dave was completely absorbed watching the six monitors.

"It was supposed to be done an hour ago," Dave said without taking his eyes off the screens. Ray had wondered a lot how Dave always knew when he was entering a room, until he had told him that it was because he made a particular sound when he stopped walking. Besides Dave, no one had ever noticed that.

"I know, but we had a little problem clearing out all the guests in the motels. How are they?"

Dave sighed. Tearing his eyes from the monitors, he finally stood up and faced him. "Frustrated. And very thirsty. Make sure there's cold water on the table."

"You are going down now?" Ray asked walking out of the room with him.

"I was supposed to be down there forty five minutes ago," Dave said hinting that he didn't like things off schedule. "But I understand what kept you. Anyway, Jake still has to give me the final report and I'm not completely sure Samantha is done with all her own analyses. My best guess is that I'm going to be down there in half an hour, though. So make sure that everything's ready. I don't want any more delays."

They both took separate corridors.

* * *

Gosh, Max was feeling so helpless that Liz was certain that if there was a spoon in her cell –she couldn't call the blue space surrounding her a 'room'- she would start digging a hole to where he was. It didn't matter what she tried to feel for him, because he wasn't getting any feelings from her. She knew Michael wasn't getting any from Maria, and her brother-in-law didn't sound like he needed a spoon at all. He would just dig the hole with his bare hands to where Maria was. 

Sitting in the same position that her husband was –though she didn't know it- Liz tried to feel everything she could from Max, because that was somehow reassuring her that he was okay, that he was alive. Sure, he was scared to death and fighting so hard to keep in control and not lose it, but she didn't care. As long as he was okay, she could endure anything. She just wished that Max would be in the next cell, because as much as she loved Michael, she just needed to hear Max's voice, needed to place her hand on the wall and know that he was doing the same on the other side.

She had given up trying "small talk" a long time ago, because Michael just wasn't the kind of guy who would go for small talk so you might take your mind off things. Not even for Maria. Instead, he had been going around with what had happened and why he hadn't been able to stop it. Actually, she was thinking pretty much the same thing. Why hadn't she seen this coming?

For months now she had been getting better at this clairvoyance thing. She had been able to take them to safe places and gotten them through narrow escapes when her premonitions would happen minutes before. They had managed to stay undetected for more than half a year now. Even if half of the time her premonitions were of useless things, she was starting to be able to recognize the contents of them faster, to decipher them without much thinking. But there had been a problem: It was taking its toll.

Around the time that Kyle had been sparking in electric green, she had started to have headaches. Small ones at first, but they had soon turned into real migraines. Max was way too busy worrying about Kyle for her to bother him right then, and it had been the first time that she had been able to really block him out. It hadn't lasted, though. The forth time that it had hit her, it hit Max too. She could still remember his hurt look, not because of the migraine itself, but because she had kept it a secret. She had vowed right then to herself that she would never lie to Max again so he wouldn't look at her like that.

"_Max…" she had whispered, almost as if she were asking for his forgiveness._

"_Don't Liz, don't ever. Promise me." He had walked to her, and placing his hands on both sides of her head, he had waited for her to promise him before he healed her._

"_I'm sorry… I just—", she had tried to explain that she was going to tell him, that she was just waiting for Kyle to get better, that he should save his energy for a real emergency, that she didn't want to worry him just yet, but she hadn't been able to. In the instant that she looked into his eyes, she didn't see a worrying husband or a scared-for-her-health lover. No, in the instant that her lips had said "I promise", it hadn't just been a promise. She had been vowing to a king that she would never, ever lie to him again._

She still wondered about that look. Max didn't consider himself a leader, much less a king, and their little group was a democracy as far as it had gone, but no one was fooling themselves. Max _was_ the leader. And if the occasion would present itself, he would act as one. And they would follow. Like right now. He had taken the lead about how to go about things, how to get the messages through, what to discuss first. He would argue that it had been because he had thought about it but… Liz sighed. One day Max was going to become a real king, but that didn't scare Liz. What scared her was rather an insight question: Would she become a real queen as well?

"What are you feeling from Max?" Michael asked her in a resigned voice.

"He's calmer now than before. He's probably talking to Maria about nothing important."

"Figures. He's trapped by who the hell knows, and he's getting calmer."

"Give him a break Michael. He's probably doing it for me and Maria."

"I know, but blaming things on him makes _me_ feel calmer."

Liz laughed. A real, if short, laugh. Michael and Max had become closer, if anything, just as they had used to be when they were younger. They had reached a balance, where both their tempers would work for the benefit of them all. Even if Isabel still had to play referee sometimes, it had always been about silly stuff like where they were eating or who would get to drive, or what station should be on the radio. When it came to really important things, they both planned things out together. Sure, her premonitions helped a ton, but if they hadn't acted like a team, they would have been in the Special Unit's hands ages ago.

"I'm glad she's beside Max, though", Michael continued, "because she prefers to hear that everything's gonna be alright, even if she knows he can't assure her of that."

She didn't have the heart to tell him that Max had stopped saying that like two years ago. Of course, why would Michael notice such things? But that didn't mean that he didn't work for things to be alright. That right now he was racking his brain about what they could do.

"Are you kidding? Maria's probably going to strangle whoever thought putting you and she at the extremes was a good idea."

"That would make two of us, then… Liz, do you think we have a chance?"

Let's go back to premonition land, Liz thought. She knew what Michael was asking: Had she had any premonitions about them getting out? Or about their being stuck in here? She wished she had had either one, because so far, she hadn't had even a hint of a premonition. In fact, she hadn't had a coherent premonition since Max had healed her that day three months ago.

She had told them that about a month before. Whenever she had a premonition about any of them, they would be in strange places. She had seen Maria sitting on a bench in the middle of a very crowded plaza, surrounded by Chinese people walking in all directions. She had seen Isabel dressed for a very exclusive party in some fancy hotel. Michael getting out of a taxi that had the driver's seat on the right side of the car. Her last premonition had been two weeks ago. Max being shot outside a café. A café that had menus in French. Although it hadn't been the first time she had seen that particular one. She had gotten a flash of it when they were deciding to leave the country a couple of weeks after they had left Roswell. Try to get to Canada. Then she had been sure it was going to happen in the French part of that country, and she just wouldn't set a foot in it. In the end, since they had been getting out of the Special Unit's claws pretty good, they had stopped thinking about going to Mexico, or any other country for that matter.

Now she wished they were as far away from the US as they could get.

"I don't know Michael. I really don't know."

Since that last premonition two weeks before, she hadn't seen anything at all. It was as if Max had 'discharged' her or something. Sure, there were no more headaches, but tension had been building up. And finally, three days ago –correction, _six_ days ago- the FBI had found them. Although no one blamed her for not having a premonition about that, it was a huge weight hanging over them that now their only real advantage to keep escaping was gone. And that had been the reason why they were so tense, so exhausted and so out of it when they had gone to sleep three days ago. Now she had woken up in this creepy blue space, feeling Max panicking right to the bottom of his soul by fears not too deep beneath the surface of his being. Max never talked about his experience in the white room, except by occasional hints that he would rather die than go back there. He always blocked the dark parts of himself, no matter what she said to him.

She hadn't lied to Michael about Max being calmer though. She had only omitted the fact that, on Max's scale, he was barely holding up. Whether he wanted to admit it to himself or not, he was waiting for the white room to repeat itself. He was just trying really hard to not let those thoughts invade him, and he was sure that he wouldn't let them break down his spirit now either. Because of her, he wasn't going to lose this battle. And because of him, Liz wasn't going to lose it either. Still, those thoughts did little to make her feel better. If anything, this waiting was making her feel worse.

Her despair was cut off by a sound. Something moving. Glancing at her left, she saw the mirror moving, opening like a door towards her cell.

"Michael!" she half said, half shouted, while feeling at the same time Max's own surprise and apprehension for whatever was going to enter there.

Except that nothing did. Slowly, very slowly, Liz started to move, to disentangle from her own embrace. Eyes locked on the mirror-door, she put her own sneakers on. She hadn't really paid much attention to the cell's temperature until now. A somewhat cold air was entering from the opened entrance. Outside the door was dark, but in the distance she could see light.

"Listen," came Michael's voice, urgent, "tell Isabel that we are all getting out at the same time. Two minutes after twelve thirty, ok?" Liz checked her watch. It was twelve twenty seven. "Okay."

After telling Isabel Michael's message, those five minutes felt like five hours. Isabel had returned the message three minutes after by telling that they all agreed. Thirty seconds before the hour hit the thirty-two minute mark, Liz stood up. Taking a deep breath, she took short but firm steps to the door. It wasn't freedom, that much she knew, but whatever it was going to be, at least she was going to be with the five people that meant the most to her in the world.

* * *

It was a human thing to make mistakes, but how can you say that when you are half alien? Because Michael knew that being half human didn't make his actions just half mistakes. He was the one who was supposed to be on the look out for that night. If he had been, he could have prevented this. Prevented them all from being in this waiting from hell in this stupid little blue room. But of course, he had been exhausted –they all had been- and he had decided that because it was too soon for the bastards at the Special Unit to gather up again, it was okay to sleep just for that night. Stupid, stupid mistake. 

So, when the mirror opened itself, Michael was determined to not make more mistakes. After telling Liz that they should go out together, he placed himself beside the entrance, being careful that he was still covered for whoever was outside, and waited the few minutes. He wasn't sure what to expect, especially since all the cells had been opened, but sure enough, their priority was to get everyone out of there. Of course, first, he had to know _what_ was out there. Then they would make plans, efficiently and rapidly. They could do this. They _would_ do this.

When the last seconds were ticking away, Michael realized that he had never felt more helpless in his life now that his powers were gone. He had felt along these months and way before since the day Max had saved Liz different levels of helplessness, of impotence, even of hopelessness, but never this sensation of being… _powerless._ Yes, he did have in himself strength and height, but it didn't make him feel any safer at all.

Twelve thirty two. Since they always had synchronized watches –and they had checked that two hours before too- he knew that everyone was going to get out at the same time. But he also knew they wouldn't leave the rooms in a rush, no matter how creepy the rooms/cells were.

In a slow movement, Michael placed himself against the door that was now against the inner wall, and peeked outside to the left. He knew Liz would be coming from his right, so the real immediate danger would be from the side where no one was. The light from the rooms was the only thing illuminating the immediate outside, but it wasn't hard for Michael to determinate that there was, indeed, no one on his left side.

When he turned to the right side, his eyes met Liz's. Obviously the girl had thought that any danger would be coming from that side as well. The slow movements were over. In a smooth and agile movement, Michael went out of his room and taking Liz by the shoulder, they both went in a straight line to the now emerging Isabel. He could see Max by the end of the doors taking Maria's hand in a fast movement and coming to the middle as well. They needed to regroup and to get out of the dark corners. He was becoming aware that they were in some sort of warehouse and that there was a light coming from the further end of it, when Maria practically collided with him. Who knew the girl was so strong? She hugged him as hard as he was hugging her now, and that was saying a lot. He forgot everything about being cautious and looking over his shoulder and the place where they were, so he could focus only on feeling Maria, on getting as much comfort and reassurance from her and to give the same back. All that mattered to him in that instant was that Maria was in his arms and that she was unharmed.

* * *

Max could stay in this embrace forever. He could believe that the sole purpose of his life was to be in Liz's arms as well. In that instant, nothing else mattered. And in a spot in the middle of his soul he could feel Liz feeling the same thing. He was certain that it wasn't that his powers were coming back. This was something beyond synapses and brain waves or whatever. This was his soul calling to hers. And hers was responding as loud as it could. 

He finally let her go just a few inches so he could see her. Her chocolate eyes were beyond worry, just as he knew his were.

"Are you all right?" he heard himself asking her, barely above a whisper, almost as if he were afraid that everything would disappear, including her, if he dared to talk louder than that.

"Yes," Liz answered in the same tone, still staring at him. "Yes," she said again, this time with more strength, bringing them both out of their own private world, moving her eyes down to his chest, as if she were looking for something out of place. Apparently satisfied with her quick glance, she turned her head to the others.

Next thing Max knew was that Isabel was hugging him while his wife was hugging Maria. Although these were quicker embraces, because their situation was now crashing really hard on them. No one said anything more, and in the close circle of friends, strength was being built for whatever was coming. They all turned their eyes to the only place where they were obviously supposed to be looking: The far side where the only light was on.

Max exchanged worried glances with Michael and then with Isabel. For all the six of them had been through, the three of them always knew that it was because of what they were that everyone they came in contact with was in danger. Being in this place pretty much summed it up for them. Now the fears the three of them had been trying so hard to not think of became tangible, like a dense fog surrounding their thoughts. Surrounding their hearts and their souls.

The three 100 percent humans of this group didn't miss the exchange, so they tried to show the other three beings of their group that it was okay, that they understood and had accepted this fate with them a long time ago. It was time to stop worrying about the should's and would's. Liz reached for Max's hand, just as Maria passed her hand around Michael's waist and Kyle gave Isabel a brief hug. Max gave Liz one of his small smiles, and sighing, tried to let go the guilt that had been building up for the past minute.

Max took the lead. With Liz at his left side, the other four followed swiftly at their sides as well. They were in a very large empty warehouse, and because they were only looking forward, they didn't notice when the doors to their rooms were closed. They didn't notice either that in some part of the huge complex where they were, someone was letting escape a big sigh of relief for a job well done in research, replica making, trips to libraries, and hours and hours of deciding which things had a special meaning and which ones didn't. The rooms had served their purposes. Another favor had been paid to Dave.

When they were halfway there, they could see more clearly what the end of their path was like. There was a long dark table, with six chairs put on one side of it. It reminded Max of the summit table in New York, although it wasn't the same table or chairs at all. It was the feeling that was the same, though. They were here for some sort of summit, and the person that was going to be their counterpart was sitting alone in front of the six chairs on the other side of the table.

He was staring at them, patiently waiting for them to reach the table. For a very, very short instant Max wondered if this man had been possessed by an alien emissary, but he wasn't sure what he would prefer for an answer. Both yes and no had their very complicated problems implied.

* * *

Twelve thirty eight in the morning was a very strange hour to finally meet the people he had been watching for the past two years, but then again, what wasn't strange about this whole situation? And Dave had been in very strange situations through all his thirty seven years of life. He was calmed though, a luxury he rarely gave himself when meeting with people. He wasn't distrustful by nature, but he didn't exactly deal with trustworthy people either. 

Ray hadn't liked that he was going to be alone at all, and had insisted that guards were put nearby in the shadows. Dave had refused. If Michael saw any guard in there, there wasn't a snowball's chance in hell that he would trust him. Max, on the other hand, would just close off, never to open again. No. He needed these kids, the six of them, to trust him, and although he didn't have any glimmer of hope about earning that trust this day, at least he wasn't doing anything to prevent it from forming in the future.

As they were getting closer, their steps began to slow down. Both Michael and Isabel glanced at the sides, to the shadowy corners, while Max was studying him. Their human counterparts where doing the same. When they were a few feet away, they all halted, and stared at him. A whole minute passed where they appeared to have become statues, frozen in time. Finally, Dave gave up.

"You can sit, you know", he said leaning over the table with his elbows, clasping his hands in front of his chest.

"Why the hell would we do that?" Michael answered him back, with a fire in his eyes that was saying that he was on the edge. What was Michael thinking? They outnumbered him, but they were powerless. Probably, there were men just around the corner and the place was wired to the last inch. He couldn't do anything to him, not without risking the lives of the others, but that didn't mean that he couldn't show how pissed off he was or to resist –even if just for a second- a command. No one else said anything or even moved. Dave let go a small smile.

"Well, because you all want to know who am I, why I brought you here and how you can get out of here as well." Signaling the glasses with ice water that were each in front of every chair, he added, "And I think you're thirsty too."

Six pairs of eyes went to the glasses on the table. And still, no one moved. This time, Dave sighed.

"I want to talk, and if you prefer to stand, it'll be fine with me."

At his words, Max looked him straight in the eye, and after a few seconds of consideration, he nodded almost imperceptibly. Finally, he took a step forward, and standing beside the chair he would take, Max looked down at the table. Besides the glasses of water, there was nothing else over the thick black glass table. Dave knew that Max had paid particular attention to his own person. The glass table was to ensure them that he was carrying no weapon, and that there weren't drawers or secret compartments where he could place one either. He was wearing black jeans and a black long sleeved shirt –after all it was really cold outside- but now that he was thinking about it under Max's quick gaze, he realized he hadn't paid much attention to what he was wearing that day. It had been a very messy long day for him to consider if he looked fashionable or not.

Once Max moved to sit down, the other five followed. So Dave had Max in front of him with Liz at Max's left and Isabel at his right. Kyle was at the right end of the table and Maria had seated beside Liz, leaving Michael at the other end. They all looked… in control. A little scared, a little jumpy, even a little edgy, but over all, in control.

"Let's talk, then." Max said in an even tone. Out of the corner of his eye Dave saw Maria attempting to reach for the glass of water. Dave turned his gaze towards her, and Maria froze in place. Dave lowered his hands to the table.

"You should all probably drink. It might be a long talk." It wasn't true. Dave knew that this talk would be over in less than fifteen minutes, but still, he needed to make them feel that it was okay for them to drink the water. Not because the water had anything in it, but because they were thirsty.

Max looked down at his glass. He glanced at Liz and when she returned his look with a "what the heck" of her own, Max moved his hand forward and grabbed the glass. Maria was already drinking by the time he was lifting it. Liz, Isabel and Kyle followed immediately. Michael was the last to do it, and all the time he was staring at him. Dave didn't mind. He waited till they were somehow satisfied. There were certain pleasures in life that one shouldn't take for granted, Dave thought, and one of those was to drink water when you are so thirsty that your own saliva felt dry.

Max drank half of his glass and then put it down. Still, Dave waited till Maria finished her own glass and put it down for him to start talking again.

"First of all, I'm not your enemy", Dave started, but Michael cut him off.

"Then who the hell are you? You took us in the middle of the night, threw us into those stupid rooms for hours and—"

"Michael," Max said turning to him, in a polite but firm way. Michael returned his gaze with daggers in his eyes, but Max's gaze put out the fury in them. Max returned his gaze to Dave.

"Who are you?" he asked in the same even tone. If Dave hadn't known better, he would have been sure Max had studied diplomatic relationships for years now. Well, with Michael as his closest and almost only friend, it was a skill that could very well have been developed through all their childhood.

"I'm Dave," he replied simply. Names didn't really mean anything after all, he thought, so he went to what actually mattered to the six persons he had in front of him.

"I'm a man of many interests and with many resources. In May of 2,000 a person contacted one of my companies with a strange request. To check the entire radio telescope network for anything unusual, and we actually found something highly unusual." Dave made a small pause to marvel at the change in their looks. They had gone from being in control to complete shock. They know what I'm talking about, Dave thought before continuing, but it isn't as if I didn't already know they are aliens.

"We found a strange high-energy microwave signal coming from Roswell, New Mexico. That was the first time I paid attention to life outside the Earth. Of course, that alone, didn't get me to you."

Dave made himself more comfortable on his own chair leaning against its back. "No, it couldn't be that easy. We waited for months to see if it would come again, and it did. In November of that same year, a very similar signal went to New York. So then we knew it was a real signal from deep space. But beside that, there was nowhere to go. We couldn't pin down the exact location where it had hit. But then there was a twist of fate."

None of the kids looked as if they were breathing. They hadn't expected to hear this, and they certainly didn't know where he was going. But Dave liked to tell stories, and he liked to tell them from the beginning. So, even if the whole point of the conversation was laying further on, he just wanted them to know how they had been… _discovered._

"Another of my companies received one thing that would change what I had thought about those signals. An anonymous client wanted a waitress's dress to be examined. We are the best at genetics and all its fields, and trust me, we had no idea what we were looking at under the microscope."

Max's eyes lost their focus for an instant. Dave wondered what exactly was Max recalling. The day he had healed Liz, maybe? There was no way that Dave could have known that what Max was really remembering was Meris Wheeler's words: _We analyzed that thing for 2 years. The best scientists in the world couldn't figure that out._

"That got us started on your search. Someone was receiving messages from outer space, and someone else was leaving a dress with a bullet hole on it without a corpse or a wounded girl, but with very intriguing genes. Of course, the only thing that related the two events was their location. Roswell, New Mexico. You got us all confused when you did your next move, though," Dave said staring right at Max. "You healed children in Phoenix, a little far away from your home town."

Max closed his eyes as Dave's words hit him hard. The other advantage about the glass table was that Dave could also see what they were doing underneath it. Liz reached for Max's arm, while Maria reached for Michael's hand at the corner. Isabel lowered her eyes as well. Kyle sighed muttering something under his breath. When Max opened his eyes again, Dave couldn't read them, but the message to continue did cross to him.

"And still, we didn't have anything solid to piece it all together, until we researched the whole incident. When Sydney Davis turned up on the list of children healed, we almost stopped breathing. The daughter of our client that was searching the signals in Roswell, New Mexico? Too big to be a coincidence. Whoever healed her had to be connected to whoever was getting the signals as well. It took us two weeks to get the tapes from the hospital and finally find you. After that, it's been a wild ride to keep an eye on you."

"You've been watching us for two years?" Isabel's voice sounded angry.

"Well, yes. We were trying to figure out what you were, why you were here, what did you want, how many of you were around. We really thought that no one else was watching over you. And since you just seemed to be… well… living as teenagers, we didn't do anything else."

"You didn't know about the Special Unit?" Michael asked with disbelief.

"Oh, we found out later on. Around May of 2,001, when your friend Alex passed away. We found an ex-agent of the unit who was willing to talk for the right price. That's when we found about what they knew. About the killings and the silver handprints left. About the crash. About your capture. Then, we didn't know what the hell to do with all of you."

"But now you do," Max stated flatly. All of them had had a flash of sadness at the mention of their friend, but Liz had gotten a fierce look when he had started talking about the killings. Almost as if she wanted to strangle the idiot who had thought her husband was capable of murder.

"Well, not really."

"Why did you bring us here, then?" Isabel asked, leaning over the table. She was the first one to do that. Although Max and Michael had their hands over it as well, they all were keeping their distance from the table, as if they might actually be burned by it.

"To make you an offer." Dave paused while they all exchanged glances.

"What kind of offer," Max finally broke in.

"I want the truth, Max. I want to know it from you all, because all I have is a bloody mess, as Englishmen say, and I can't afford to have wrong ideas about any of you."

Max lowered his gaze, just like everybody else did. Glancing at Liz, he returned his eyes to Dave.

"You wouldn't believe it," he said above a whisper. It didn't matter to Dave, there was no sound but their voices in the entire warehouse.

"What exactly won't I believe? That you are some sort of shapeshifter that has been killing people so you can survive on this planet—"

"That's so not it—", it was the first time Maria had spoken, and even if Dave didn't really mean to, he hushed her with a glacial look.

"Or," he continued talking to Max, "that you are an alien king waiting to return home with the rest of the royal family?"

It took a tremendous will from Dave to not laugh out loud at their identical expressions. Stunned would be an understatement. Half open mouths and very round eyes while their chests seemed to have lost the ability to rise and fall, to let air enter. He would have loved to have a snapshot right then. But the really creepy part of this talk was next. That killed any joy in him.

"Or maybe the truth is an entire different story. I just don't know. I've been going around this puzzle for months, years, actually, but I've finally made up my mind about you. I can offer you a deal in which you'll get what you want and I'll get what I want."

"We tell you the truth and you let us go?" Michael asked in a skeptical tone. This time, he too leaned over the table.

"No. Unfortunately, it's not that easy. I want the truth, yes, but that's not just it. I want you, too."

Michael narrowed his eyes, not exactly understanding what Dave was implying. But someone did. This time, Liz moved forward, though she didn't place her hands over the table.

"You want to study them." It wasn't a question, and her eyes didn't held fear, just pure hatred. "You just want the same that they want." Liz said through a tight jaw, barely keeping herself in check.

"What!" Kyle exploded in the corner of the table. "You want to cut them up? Is that your big offer?"

Both Michael and Isabel took their hands off the table as if it had, indeed, burned them. Dave turned his eyes from Kyle to Max, without saying a word. Though he noticed that Max was paler than a minute before, the leader of the six wasn't losing his temper.

"If you had wanted just that," Max said without moving a muscle, his eyes not leaving Dave's, "you would have done so already. You want something else." It took Max around three seconds for it to hit him. "You want us to cooperate with you, don't you? To do it willingly."

"Not to willingly let yourselves be cut up, no, but to study your abilities, yes. Still, you're right. It has never worked for me to have people under my wings out of fear. Have you ever heard that 'an ounce of loyalty is worth a pound of cleverness'? I work with that. My offer is simple. You all cooperate with me by staying in here and I'll throw the FBI not only off your backs but off your family's backs as well. Everyone who has been implicated in this… well, mess, would be taken care of. I'll give you a chance at a normal life. A chance to stop running. But it has to be all of you."

"For how long?"

"Max!" Isabel hissed under her throat, in an accusatory tone. It was as if she were thinking he was already saying yes. Max glanced at her for just a second, almost as if saying 'I'm just asking', and returned his very controlled look to Dave.

"Indefinitely. But if you break the… 'contract', then I'll withdraw my protection from everyone involved as well. You'll be left as you were found. Alone."

"And if we say no?"

"Then you are free to go. I will never offer it again, and you will never see me again either. I'll let things run their course, and I'll be really sorry when the FBI's Special Unit puts their hands on you. Because they will, Max. Maybe not tomorrow, maybe not in a year, but they will. You are getting careless and they are learning from their mistakes. You are just too young and too inexperienced to outrun them forever. I don't expect you to trust me or trust that I'm telling you the truth right now, because that has to happen with time, but at least consider this: You can only hope I'm telling you the truth and that things might actually work. The Special Unit will never give you a glimmer of hope at all."

The six of them glanced at each other with fear in their eyes. Doubt of what to believe. It truly seemed as if there was just no right answer. Dave stood up, and fishing a little golden bag from his right pocket, he looked at them with a friendly smile.

"You are not the first ones to doubt me. So I'll give you exactly twelve hours to decide if you think you can trust me or not. If you are back, I'll answer your questions just as you will answer mine, and then we'll work out the details of the contract."

A door opened about twelve feet to the left from where the table was. They all jumped a little in their seats and were surprised when no one came. From where they were sitting, they could see snow falling into the warehouse.

"There's one of your cars parked outside. All your belongings are in there too. You can find a motel about six miles down the road, or you can find wherever you want to spend the night around town. You can also just drive straight and not look back. I won't care. From the moment you left those rooms behind you, there wasn't a single camera on you. Outside this complex, no one that works for me will follow you. You are no longer being watched," Dave said looking at Isabel. "And you should know too that your powers should return in about three hours."

When no one moved, Dave sighed. He had seen just about every single reaction from the people he made this kind of offer to. People who would just start to cry, or nervously laugh. People who would just make a run for the door and never look back. People who had called him a liar, who had called him a saint, and everything else in between. But most people just sat there, not sure if they were dreaming or having a nightmare. Waiting for something else to happen, he guessed, or for him to continue talking. But there was nothing else he had to say, not at this stage anyway, and now everything depended on them.

Suddenly remembering the golden bag that he still had in his right hand, Dave leaned over the table and placed it in front of Max.

"Before you go, Samantha, one of my analysts, asked me to tell you that you have never made a more perfect diamond than this one. And that she was sorry she couldn't finish with it earlier."

Max lowered his eyes to the bag and reached for it. When he looked inside of it, his eyes turned to Liz. "It's your engagement ring," he said with a whisper, and they both returned their gazes to Dave.

"You are _really_ free to go."

And as if it had been the first time they had heard it –although probably it was the first time they had _believed_ it- the six of them stood up and half walked, half ran to the door, without even a last glance at him. When he was alone, Dave sat down letting a huge sigh escape. He heard the car being started and then how it left. After a minute of silence, Dave started to feel the adrenaline leaving his body. Gosh, he was so tired.

"You can come out now, you know", he said out loud. Out of the right corner of the warehouse, a figure started to move towards him.

"How did you know I was there?" Ray asked with a frown.

"I didn't. I was just checking. But I think I told you I didn't want you here."

"No. You said you didn't want any guards in here. You never said anything about me."

Dave glared at Ray. Even if he knew that Ray was doing it to protect him, things could have gone really wrong if any of the six had seen him. "I'm going to get a lawyer every time I'm talking to you, then."

Ray laughed while taking a seat.

"So, how did it go? Do you think they are coming back?"

"I don't know Ray. They are way too used to trusting no one, that I just don't know. They are also too scared."

"Why do you want them in here, anyway?" Ray asked leaning over the table and staring at him. "How do you plan on using their abilities?"

"I have many, many ways in which their skills can be useful to me, I won't deny that, but it is much more than that Ray." Dave broke the eye contact and lowered his eyes to the table, as if he were thinking something very important. "I just hope for our own sakes that they say yes. There is just way too much at stake here. But nothing will work if they are not here willingly." He paused, thinking something over, but remained silent. Then, with a huge yawn, Dave stood up before Ray could ask him what he was talking about, and after telling him good night, he walked away from the table to a hidden door at one of the sides of the warehouse.

Dave hated lies, so he did whatever he could to not lie to anyone, but it was… _okay_ if you just didn't say all that there was to say. To keep certain aspects of the whole situation to oneself, to say it in a way. Of course, he knew Ray wouldn't see it like that, -and if Max knew he wouldn't see it like that either-, but his real motives would have to stay a secret for now. After all, what was the point of telling anyone a plan that wouldn't really start its motion until years to come?

* * *

Author's Note: The quote "An ounce of loyalty is worth a pound of cleverness" is from Elbert Hubbard. 


	4. Decisions, Decisions

**IV**

**Decisions, Decisions**

Kyle took the driver's seat without even glancing at anyone else. In fact, no one else said anything at all when he went for it. Kyle had figured no alien should be behind the wheel right now, and besides, it was going to be practically impossible for anyone to separate Max and Liz and Michael and Maria from each other. Isabel was a whole other story. They both used to be close when the other four retreated to their own little worlds. But close as 'just-friends' close. They had become really great roommates, and had all these little inside jokes that made them not feel like outsiders in a group where most members were loving someone else. But right now, everyone was silent.

Out of the three cars that were theirs for the present month –they always changed cars at least once a month- Kyle was glad that it had been the Suburban that had been brought to them. He guessed that it was because they could all fit inside in a very comfortable way. Before they were out of that creepy warehouse, Kyle had been certain they would find the old van outside, just as a final proof of how much this Dave knew about them. So, his heart had made a little happy dance when he had seen his favorite car. And he knew _this_ was his car. It had a tricky starter, which he had tamed over the whole month. He was certainly going to miss this car when it was time to change. Except that now Kyle didn't know if they were going to change it at all.

It was starting to snow outside, and he wasn't surprised when their own thick coats and gloves had been waiting for them in the back of the car, right in the last seat, where Maria and Michael were sitting now. Max and Liz had settled in the middle seats, as Maria had found the clothes and had silently passed them through. Sure, they had been in a town in Colorado, and it was bloody cold there, but wherever they were now, this was even colder, and it was around 1:00 a.m. too. He had set the heater to the highest level just after he had started the car. The good thing was that because he had woken up around 7:00 p.m., he wasn't sleepy at all. Thirsty, scared to dead, with no real clue as to what was happening, and a little hungry, yeah, but not sleepy. It had to count for something.

The lights on the road were signaling him the path he had to take to get out of there. No one was waiting or looking or whatever outside. When he passed the gates three minutes later, he let go the breath he hadn't even noticed he was holding. They were out of that place, but out to where? He kept going on the only road that there was, not noticing that inside his gloves his knuckles were white from the pressure with which he was gripping the steering wheel.

Isabel was staring outside, looking straight ahead, as if she were waiting for something to suddenly appear in front of the road. Actually, Kyle was staring at his side mirror expecting that someone was going to be following them. But behind him was just an empty road. Sure, if the car had some sort of tracking device, why bother with someone following, right? Granted, when the pod squad regained their powers, they could make sure they weren't having "bug" problems, but till then… And besides, who said their powers were going to come back in three hours? Dave? Who the hell was he?

But more importantly, why would they accept his offer? It was freaking him out to even think about the possibility of saying yes. Not only for the implications for his friends, but for a more selfish reason: What would happen to him? Did this Dave person know about his changes? And if he did, what was he going to do to him? He had stopped being a human light for almost two months now, and he wasn't complaining. Sure, besides that, nothing else had happened, and he was praying every hour of the day to Buddha or whoever the Higher Power was that that would be the end to his changes.

He still remembered how he had once said to Isabel that if he had one tenth of her power, he would have fun. Well, he now did posses a percentage of it, and he was still waiting for the fun to begin… He now knew why they wallowed in doom and gloom. _"Oh, we've got to keep our secret safe; we've got to be boring and brooding"._ He had been wrong. There was nothing boring about being on the run. You were always jumpy, paranoid, edgy… It had been a freaking mess being at home, but on the road… gosh, and he had complained about blue crystals melting over him? Where were those days? At least inside that cave Alex had made him have some fun. He had put things in perspective too. Being an alien –or, in his case, being changed by one- didn't make things easy or boring at all. If anything, it had given him a different perspective of how life was for his three friends. He'd gotten to know how important _normal_ was for them, why they searched for it with such a passion.

And that was why Dave's offer was so… tempting. The guy did know what he was talking about. There was nothing else in the world that the three of them –or to be sincere, the six of them- wanted more than normal life. But how normal could it really be? And how high was the price to get it?

"Stop the car," Max said, finally breaking the silence. Kyle did as he was told, parking at the side of the road, leaving the lights on to see if someone was coming in front of them. Everyone turned to look at Max.

It was curious, Kyle thought, that when it came to making decisions, everyone immediately turned to Max, even if the decisions were made by vote and not by whatever Max wanted. He had been outnumbered half of the time, and had not always been happy with what the majority had decided. But still, it was always he who had to be the one first looked upon. Max had told him once –in that weird past October night when they had actually started to be friends- that sometimes he wished he could become invisible so no one would turn to stare at him as if he had all the answers. Because hell, he didn't have them all.

"What are we going to do?" Isabel asked in a very concerned and very fearful voice. Kyle knew he would sound exactly the same, if not worse. He noticed too, as weird as it was, that even if they still looked at Max first, they had stopped putting his name at the end of every question. But gosh, wouldn't it be just easier to say _what are we going to do, Max?_ and blame him for whatever the outcome was? No wonder the guy hated to be looked at like that…

"Right now we are going to wait till our powers are back. They are our only real defense against whoever might try to get us again."

"And then what?" Michael asked, in a rather angry voice. Michael still hated to wait and see, but had gotten used to it after hours and hours of nothing else to do but to, well, wait and see.

"I don't know," Max answered sincerely. "But we have to discuss this through. What everyone thinks about this."

"Are you seriously considering the offer?" Maria asked with disbelief in her eyes.

"I'm seriously considering the situation we are in, and that includes the offer," Max said looking back at her, "because whether or not we accept it, we have to see…"

"To see what?" Michael asked, on an edge.

"If this is real," Max answered, "and we let it pass, at least I want to know we all agreed on that. I don't want to regret it, okay?"

"No, it's not okay," Michael barked in response, "we are sitting ducks in here, Max. We should just go as fast as we can to put as much distance between that man and us."

"We should think this first," Isabel interceded, "before doing anything else. I'm with Max in this one, I think we should discuss it," Isabel said in a more controlled tone now.

"You too?" Michael asked, almost as if he had been betrayed or something. Why did Michael always assume that because you were against what he wanted you were against him as a whole?

Isabel gave him one of those patented Ice Princess glares, even if time and time again they had proved futile against Michael. Kyle guessed that she still did it because old habits died hard.

"I mean, what is there to discuss?" Michael continued, ignoring Isabel completely, "if we accept we are willingly giving ourselves to be guinea pigs for the rest of our lives or whatever 'indefinitely' means. And I won't let that happen to me or to any of you either. We have a better chance on the road. We have managed to stay alive and out of their claws all this time. We can keep doing it as well."

"Would you listen to yourself, Michael?" Isabel asked him in a not so nice tone. "'Stay alive', but we are not really living either. We have no place to return to because we are too afraid that something might happen to our parents and family. We are doomed to stay on the run for the rest of our lives!"

"Don't tell me you want to accept it," Michael said with a harsh voice.

"I'm not saying that, but considering it won't kill us. Don't you know what this means? If we agree, not only will we stop running, but they'll take the FBI out off our backs, of our parents' backs, of Jesse's back as well."

Oh. Kyle looked silently at the two counterparts. He understood Michael's reason, but it had hit him hard now that he was hearing Isabel's main reason: Her husband.

They had known for quiet some months now that the FBI was getting harder on their families. Their houses, cars, workplaces had been bugged, no surprise there. Everyone was always on the look out. They couldn't even really talk to their kids because they knew how dangerous it was. So, neither the adults nor the kids knew about the other, and it was slowly killing both parties. Of course, since Michael didn't really have a family that close outside this group he didn't see that much trouble. But it was really different for the rest of the group who had grown up with caring parents. And besides, there was Jesse. Isabel hadn't contacted him since they had left Roswell because she thought it would be unfair to Jesse that she would be coming and going in his life. It had to be a clean cut, so they both could continue. It was killing Isabel, and Kyle had no doubt that it was killing Jesse as well.

And now there was this chance that Jesse could be safe too. He wasn't really safe out there with the FBI breathing down his neck with every move he made. They had learned from the first and only call they made home a month after they had left Roswell that he hadn't taken the job in Boston, but instead he himself had disappeared off the map. Smart guy. Though the shadow that he might have disappeared courtesy of the FBI was over their hearts, they had all hoped he had managed the trick himself. And when a month later Liz had gotten a flash of him by touching Isabel, they all had breathed easier.

"I cannot believe it," Michael simply said, with disgust. "You are willing to go through hell so Jesse can have a happy life? You don't even know if what Dave said is true! For all we know he can say he's going to protect them and never again give them a second thought."

"We could ask for proof," Liz said quietly. It was the first time she had talked, and five pairs of eyes centered on her. "I mean, he wants to earn our trust, right? He would have to work for it. He knows it. He wouldn't lie to us on something like that."

"Liz," Maria said with doubt in her voice, "we don't even know if once we are inside he'll just grab Max, Michael, and Isabel and we'll never see them again."

"I know Maria, but why would he let us go then? All of us were in his hands, and he just let us go. If he really just wants to grab them, this course of action doesn't make sense at all."

"So, are you willing to believe him?" Max asked above a whisper. Of the three people most affected, he had been the only one who hadn't jumped in with his reasons to agree or decline the offer.

"Max, I'm terrified of what he can do to you, all of you, and I know you are too, but he was right about one thing: He might be telling the truth. If the Special Unit gets their hands on you, they won't ask if you want to cooperate or not."

"What you are basically saying," Kyle found himself saying out loud, "is that you prefer this new devil to the old known one?"

Liz's eyes turned a darker shade, and she lowered her eyes to no point in particular. "I don't know what I'm saying Kyle. This is so confusing. I guess I just want to believe him, but there's no real guarantee, is there?"

Max put his arms around her waist and pulled her into him in a tender hug. "I want to believe him too," he said quietly, "but he clearly said that we all have to agree on this one, and there's still so much we don't know."

"We know he knows a lot about us, about our daily life stuff," Liz started to say. "Max, he's willing to believe you are not the alien who killed all those people through decades like the Special Unit is so certain you did. That all you three want is just a normal, peaceful existence"

"He wants to know the truth," Isabel elaborated. "Besides, he said we could break the contract, we can always say no when we want, and be right back where we are now."

"Are you two losing the whole point of this thing?" Michael said with a temper barely under control. "He wants to _study_ us. How the hell do you think he's going to do that? Before we know it, we are going to be strapped to a metal table, not moving because he'll threaten to harm the three of you." Michael finished pointing at Liz.

"He has already done it," Max said tightening his embrace on Liz. They all turned to him with question marks on their faces. "That's why three days have gone by." When no one made any comment about that, Max finally explained why he was thinking that.

"My left arm was itching when I woke up, and I really didn't pay much attention to it at first. But it makes sense. He would have had to take one blood sample to know that Liz isn't one of us. He must have taken at least a blood sample from all of us. Who knows what else he did while we were unconscious? He was hedging his bets that we might not return and accept his offer, so he got a piece of us before we could refuse."

"And you are still willing to trust him after that?" Michael asked with a still stunned face. The thought paralyzing.

"He's playing in a win-win situation. If we accept his offer we'll be in a position where we have everything to lose with no guarantee of anything to win. But he wins no matter what," Max said more to himself than to anyone else.

"So you don't want to accept either?" Isabel said almost with dismay. Max gave a heavy sigh.

"If this had happened two weeks before, I would have said no, but now that Liz can't guide us… We were almost caught six days ago, and we _do_ know what the Special Unit will do to us."

"Max—"

"No, Michael, it was too close last time. You were hurt, and I was there to heal you afterwards, but what if next time it is me who gets hurt or killed? Who will heal any of you after I'm gone? You keep telling us that the whole point is that we are going to be willing prisoners, but don't you see? Six days ago we were almost caught, and three days ago we _were_. We have already been caught. That was the whole point of keeping us apart, as if we were in a real prison, so we could know it can happen to us; that we are sitting ducks like you said. We were just lucky that he got to us first and not the Special Unit."

"Lucky!" Michael exploded, "Max, for all we know, he is the Special Unit! He's going to do exactly what they would do!"

"Don't tell me about what they are going to do because you haven't been there. Don't you think the idea is paralyzing me? That when I woke up in that blue room it took everything I had in me to not start just screaming that this isn't fair? But I've been trying for months now to find a solution where we don't have to keep running, and so far, I've failed, and now the Special Unit is so close to us that I just don't know what to do anymore. Dave was right, we can't outrun them forever. I can't see the future, Michael, but as far as I can see, we are going to go to sleep one night and wake up inside white cells the day after. And no one is going to let us go at all, much less ask us if we are okay with it."

"So, that's it? You've already made the decision for all of us? You are accepting and we'll follow?" Michael asked in a threatening tone that Kyle hadn't heard in a long, long time. He was sure that if it wasn't for the fact that they were all sitting inside a car, Michael would be standing right in front of Max, while Max wouldn't back a single step. Those two could be scary when they were defending their own reasons.

"I'm not making a decision for anyone but myself." Max said in a more calm tone, but without taking his eyes from Michael's. "But just as you are saying why we shouldn't accept, I'm pointing out facts that might help us decide what is best for us."

No one spoke for a whole minute while Max and Michael stared at each other.

"You are willing to risk it all for this one possible chance?" Michael asked in a more controlled way. Apparently, it had finally hit him that screaming and yelling weren't going to get him anywhere. Kyle had learned a long time ago too that if you wanted to crumble Max's reasons you either went for pure logic –like Liz always did- or went for guilt, like Michael was trying to do now. "If this blows completely in our faces—"

"It'll be the worst mistake ever," Max finished for him. "I know. But Liz is right, if he didn't want to back up his offer, why would he just let us go? To play with us? Is he a shelter or is he a cage? It just doesn't make sense."

"Give me one solid reason as to why we should accept this."

Max lowered his eyes, trying to find something, but even Kyle knew there just wasn't anything 'solid' about this whole thing. Everything was being based on guesses and hopes…

"I don't have one." Max finally answered leveling his eyes to Michael. "I'm just tired of waiting for the worst to happen."

Michael arched his eyebrows in a surprised gesture. He had so not seen that one coming.

"But whatever is waiting for us there, can't be worse that whatever is waiting for us on the road. It's already been proven that we can be caught Michael. God, we didn't even see them coming to get us, we never had even a chance to defend ourselves. And just like you, I don't want anything to happen to me or to any of you… At least this way we'll have some degree of control over what is going on. Can _you_ give me a solid reason to not want to accept this?"

"You are basing this decision on hope."

"We've been making decisions all along based on hope. But if I didn't really believe there's a real chance that this could work, I wouldn't be saying all of this. You know that."

After ten seconds or so, Michael was the one to turn his eyes away, with an exasperated sigh. It was like he had just given up on trying to convince Max. Still, that didn't mean that Michael wanted to accept either. They were, well, stuck. And the rest of the group wasn't exactly agreeing to one part or the other completely.

"This is so not helping us," Maria said breaking the uncomfortable silence. "I don't mean to diminish you or anything, but this also affects us. I mean, what would happen to the three of us?"

"Yeah," Kyle said finally finding the courage to speak his inner fears, "I bet he'll find it very interesting how one can glow in the dark courtesy of Max."

"I don't think they know anything about that, or you wouldn't have had your powers either," Isabel said with a thoughtful expression. "There was nothing anywhere that said a thing about that. I mean, we didn't even know it would happen."

"Yeah, but if they were following us everywhere," Kyle said hating to be the bad news bringer, "they probably saw Liz going through her changes. Maybe even saw me…"

"No, I think Isabel is right," Max said looking at Kyle, "He took our powers because he didn't want us blasting him into oblivion. If he had known any of you could be capable of that, he wouldn't have taken the chance. At this point he doesn't completely trust us either."

"But what exactly does he know about us? About the six of us I mean," Maria asked leaning over Liz's seat.

"Well, he can't know all that much if he has all these doubts and questions about the past four years of ours lives," Liz said thinking it through. "For one thing, the things in our rooms were things that at some point either other people knew we liked or were in our rooms at home. Things we did when we were little. Activities our parents, or classmates or even our teachers knew. Information easy to collect if you are a good researcher."

"He had the royal seal printed on a black sheet in Max's room, and he did know what that meant," Maria said with a half sympathetic, half apologetic tone.

"The safety deposit box," Michael said out of the blue. "The book and the translation were there."

"Part of the translation," Max said with a hint of new hope. "Dad told me he had emptied the box a week after we left, but you are right. They could have gone to the safety box before. Still, I was going through the section where our powers were being discussed so I might found something on Liz's powers. I never put that back."

"Still, how would that helps us anyway?" Michael asked with a resigned tone now. "If we are showing him what we can do, why would he need the translation?"

"Because we don't have to show him everything we can do," Isabel said with a bright, almost evil smile. "We don't even have to show him how good we are at them. I mean, the fact that we might agree to stay there doesn't mean we have to tell him everything. He wants to know the truth, so let's tell him the truth without some details. There are things that he can't possibly know about us. We can always be one step ahead of what they think they know. We can still keep some little advantage for ourselves."

Michael glared at her, but for the first time Kyle thought that his very edgy friend was finally considering that they did have a snow ball's chance in hell of getting into this with a plan of how to get out of it too.

"So, are we accepting then?" Kyle asked as everyone was considering Isabel's words.

"I cannot believe it," Michael said pulling Maria closer again.

"If we are going to do this," Max said with a little sigh of resignation himself, "we need to get our story straight. We need to decide what we are going to say and what we are leaving out. We cannot be caught in a lie."

"And what if he already knows stuff we are not saying?" Kyle asked with a little fear.

"Well, I guess we'll have to just hope he won't mind," Liz said leaning over Max. "He wants us to trust him, but he's going to have to trust us at the same time. Besides, I don't think he's going to tell us everything there is to know either… It's just a feeling I have…"


	5. Before The Hour

**V**

**Before the Hour**

"So, they went to the motel?" Dave asked while watching through his room window the snow falling outside. He loved to watch it fall. He loved to watch the rain fall, or to stare at waterfalls. He just loved to see movement, especially when it was nature's movement.

"They arrived at the motel around four thirty in the morning." Ray said while sipping at his hot chocolate. It was around 10:00 a.m. on that cold winter morning. It took a little time to Dave to get straight what day it was, and he smiled when he remembered it was February the first. His birthday was getting closer, and just as the movement, Dave loved his birthday. He made a quick mental note about remembering that Maria's birthday was closer than his.

"They waited for their powers to come back," Ray continued, "because that's the only reason I can see for them taking close to three and a half hours to get from here to there. Although this is the first time I know that someone you talk to takes the first motel on the road. Especially since it was you who brought it to the conversation."

Dave smiled. He had told the truth when he had said that no one who worked for him was going to follow them, and that they were no longer being watched, but if the news of strangers in town arrived by other sources, well, it wasn't his fault.

Robert Watson was the owner of the motel six miles from the complex, and the sole purpose of his business was for him to know who arrived at town. Robert just plain loved gossip, that much to the point that Ray had once referred to him by saying that he should have been born woman and not man.

His motel was just in the intersection with the highway and the small road that lead to Dave's properties. So, when the six teens had stopped at his motel at four thirty in the morning, Robert had probably told so to just about everyone else in town as soon as the sun had hit the frozen lake. Therefore, now that it was ten o'clock, the news were getting to Dave's ears.

"They are going to accept," Dave said confidently. "They are just re-grouping and probably trying to get some sleep before one in the afternoon."

* * *

Gosh, Alex hadn't been kidding, Isabel thought while looking through the window. It was close to midday now, and everyone had paired up in their usual pairs, each on their own room. Kyle was meditating or something in the other corner of the room, so she was perfectly still watching the snow falling. The problem with that was that now she had way too much time and way too much silence for all kinds of thoughts and all kinds of doubts to invade her mind. 

She could remember when Alex had come to her house all excited because he was going to Sweden. He had made this whole research with Liz about Sweden's history, with all the boring details, but she had gone through all of it just because he wanted her to. And she hadn't complained either, and she was so glad now to have done it too. It gave her a good memory of Alex. But what had brought her thoughts to that evening was a comment Alex had made about a Swedish joke: when the Swedish people had first come to North America and had landed in New York, they had said that the weather wasn't bad enough for them to feel like home. So they had kept moving forward, towards the center of the United States, stopping from time to time to see if it was, indeed, bad enough. And it was till they were in Minnesota that they had all agreed that it was so bad that it qualified as home.

And it was true: This was the worst weather she had ever been in. Sure, she had seen snow in Roswell, had had some very cold nights there too, and then had been on the road in practically all kinds of weather, but this was way beyond white and way beyond cold. The trees were all stripped down of every single leaf, and there was no one outside because they were in the middle of nowhere –although she doubted she would have seen too many people even if they were in town. Despite the fact that it was midday, the sun was so pale and the sky so clouded that you could believe you were about half the afternoon. It wouldn't get any brighter, and she wondered if this was an indication of their destiny: Would their lives ever be brighter than this day?

Isabel sighed. She wished she could have the answers already. When they had arrived to the motel they had been still discussing their plans. It was till around eight in the morning –a very cold, gray, and soundless morning- when they had gone to their rooms. Maria had said something about enjoying their last hours of freedom, to which Michael had almost snorted, but seeing the worry and fear in Maria's eyes, he had restrained himself. But she had to agree with Michael. What freedom? Watching the snow fall surrounded by trees that looked like they should be in a cemetery? Isabel sighed again. This was getting her nowhere.

When she had woken up in that room she had just frozen. Max had gotten up and went to the bookshelves, Michael had done pretty much the same, but she had just been frozen in place. She had woken up over her side, and had looked straight into the mirror. It didn't take her more than a second to know the truth, but she couldn't know how much time it had passed since that first realization and when she had heard Kyle. Time had been senseless while she shut her eyes and wished it all away, just like when she was little and sometimes had nightmares. She would close her eyes and wish all those bad things away, and it would work. Of course, this time it didn't work, but Kyle had been next to her, and the relief of not being alone had gotten her to her senses again. She had then taken control over her emotions and actions, and was ready to act in whatever plan she or anyone else could come up. She didn't like to be scared, and she didn't like others knowing that she was either.

But Isabel _was_ scared. Scared as she had rarely been in her life. Of all the three of them, she had always tried to pretend that it didn't matter, that _what_ they were didn't affect _who_ they were. So she had lived up to her own standards, had known she was beautiful and brilliant, and that she could be whoever she wanted to be. The future was there waiting for her. She hadn't really thought about loving someone _and_ telling him the secret, but those decisions could wait, because she was still a sixteen year old whose biggest problem was a Chemistry midterm.

And then Max had changed it.

She wished she could hate him but… _I couldn't just let her die._ Max's words came echoing in her mind. She had wanted to strangle him right then because he had not only compromised her life, but the way she lived it. _What _they were did matter when it came to _who_ they were, she had realized with his words. Because of _what_ Max was, he was _who_ he was. If Max hadn't had the ability to heal Liz… It wasn't as if Isabel didn't like Liz, because she was a real good sister-in-law –had even volunteered to help her last Christmas- but she wished that day hadn't lead to _this_ day, where she was in the middle of nowhere, in plain winter, in a motel room, watching the snow fall, thinking if this would be the last time she would be able to see it.

That was why she was so scared now. Michael was right, they were more likely to end up as willing prisoners, but Max was right too: They had been caught by someone else, but how long would it take to the Special Unit to find them again? A week from now? A month? And they _did _know what that future held for them. The fact that Liz had somehow lost the ability to see the immediate future was just the final obstacle within them and a normal life. She had tried since the night they left Roswell to see a way out of this mess, to return to a normal life, or at least to pretend to have one. But they were always moving, never staying anywhere more than a week, traveling by pairs, or in trios, getting all together for brief times.

"_We can't keep going all together. A group of six will always be remembered. They'll land on us a hell more sooner than later", Michael had said the day after they had left Roswell, in a motel in Arizona, the first one of many, many to come._

"_What do you suggest? That we split up as we had thought first?" she had asked him with disbelief. They needed each other, all six of them, or they would not make it. Especially her, and especially without Jesse._

"_No, I suggest that we travel in different numbers, and get together in key points. We can even travel one behind the other just in different cars. I don't know, it just sounds more logical than going all of us in a van that seems that will crack up any minute now."_

"_I agree," Kyle had spoken then staring out the window to the old van, "I don't think it can get us too much farther."_

"_So," Max had said looking at Michael, "you still think we are safer as individuals than we are as a group?" it was a genuine question. Max was just as lost as any of them were. He had been serious about giving up the throne just the day before too._

"_I do Max, but think about it. If we go in ways they are not expecting, we'll find it easy to get mixed up in the crowd."_

And they had thought about it, and had agreed on it too. And that was how she had ended up sometimes traveling alone with Maria or Liz. In the seven months they had been doing the "exchanging partners" thing, as Kyle called it, she had gotten to know a lot more of the three human members of their group. And she had gotten to talk to Max too, gotten a chance to be brother and sister again. Even Michael had seemed more talkative after a few weeks.

After a few weeks too they had resigned themselves to the routine of always being on the move as well. Liz was always getting these flashes, and she wouldn't even know how far in the future they were, so they had just assumed the worst was around the corner and had ran for their lives. Literally.

They had done more camping in those months than in all their lives put together. She had found very creative ways of using her powers to get rid of mosquitoes, make the ground under her sleeping bag stone-less and to cook without giving that weird taste. That had taken weeks of practice –and a lot of awful meals- but they had all managed it.

Then they would run out of provisions and would have to return to the nearest town. When they actually ran out of money, then it would be the nearest city. Max's ability to turn carbon into diamonds hadn't passed unnoticed by Michael and herself. Though the two of them couldn't manage it –yet- if she could put together all the diamonds Max had already sold, they would make some very interesting sets of collars and earrings. She had teased him that for her birthday he was bound to give her something like that too.

Of course, when autumn and then winter had hit the United States, there weren't many places to go camping. Or more likely, none of them had any inclination to camp under rain or snow. Even so, they had bought the equipment for climates with snow and all that, just in case. And it had been a good thing too, because for her 20th birthday by the end of last October, Kyle had started to go through his changes. And there had been no better place to hide and wait than to camp in the middle of nowhere. It wasn't snowing yet, but the weather was getting cold. And of course, winter arrived early too.

It was almost the end of November when they had finally felt safe enough to return to civilization. God, a hot shower had never felt better in her entire life. Nor a soft bed and an actual roof over her head. It had been a hard test to their living together skills, but since the woods were, well, roomy, you could always take your tent some further feet away to get a little more privacy. But to be sincere, if she never saw a camp site again in her life, that would be too soon.

And that might very well be a wish to come true, Isabel thought not really paying attention to the snow falling now. After that, they had kept to motels in the roads. By now, they knew how to spot the good ones, and how to make the bad ones good enough. Who would believe Isabel Evans was going to be an expert in motels? Ha. Who would believe Isabel Evans was half alien half human?

She had been able to deceive everyone, from her parents to the girls she hung up with, to the guys she flirted at, to her husband later on. She almost went to college in San Francisco, and actually had gone to Las Cruces, had gotten _all_ those letters of recommendation from people who loved her, respected her, cared about her. People who _knew_ who Isabel Evans was. She had deceive them all, and would have kept doing it as far as it provided her a normal existence. Because, that Isabel Evans _was_ she. Despite the fact that Jesse had told her that she was a good liar, that didn't mean that underneath she was a different person. She did care for all the people she helped, studied hard for her grades –okay, maybe not _that_ hard- and made sure she was this perfect little angel, no matter who had come up with the Ice Princess name. She just had this little dark secret that only made a difference when it came to change her nail polish color, or the way her hair was, or heating a cold coffee. And then things changed.

Now that little dark secret was the center of her life.

Placing her forehead against the cold window, Isabel sighed by the third time. In a few hours she would be deceiving people again, but she was perfectly fine with it. She had had a long time to think while in that blue room about everything she had lost. About how easy it had been in the end to be caught. She hadn't even been able to put up a fight. And when she had heard Dave's offer, all those thoughts had come back to her. If it was a lie, why let them go? And she was gambling by believing it could be true, wasn't she? They had almost been caught three days before they were caught by this man, and it had hit her hard that their chances of being able to keep escaping were nonexistent now. Had they been too quick in this though? Maybe, but none of their very limited options were exactly cheerful.

It didn't matter now, their plan was already on the move. One of the first things they had decided was which powers should they show, and which should they keep for themselves. Liz had been the first to say that she shouldn't say anything about her dreamwalking ability.

"_There's no way they can know about it, Isabel, and it might as well be the only way to communicate with each other if things go really wrong", Liz had said with a very serious tone._

Actually, those words weren't too different from ones that had been said around a week after their departure had passed. Isabel had wanted so bad to dreamwalk Jesse, their parents, tell them they were okay, tell them they were safe. Or to dreamwalk their hunters, to see what their plans were. But Max hadn't liked the idea. Michael hadn't liked it either.

"_We don't even know what they know about us and what they don't," Michael had started, followed closely by her brother._

"_If they suspect that you can dreamwalk they might use it against us. If they don't know it, there's no reason to give them any clue you can do that." Max had said, seating beside her. "It's the only way we have to communicate with each other without anyone knowing it."_

"_But what about our parents? What about Jesse!" Isabel had insisted, desperately wanting news from home. Were they okay back in Roswell? She had seen Max's eyes clouded with sadness as well. With sadness and terrible doubts._

"_We can't risk it, Isabel. Mom and Dad know nothing about that, you didn't have a chance to tell them. But if you start doing it… If Mom and Dad, or Jesse talk about it… it will be just the same thing. Someone who isn't supposed to know will know by listening to them. Besides… don't give them hope just by entering their dreams. Don't make them expectant of news from us. It wouldn't be fair to them to wait and wait. And it will break your heart too. All of ours…" _

So she had restrained herself of those visits, because it wasn't fair. She did take sneak peaks from time to time, but looking into people's dreams was not an exact science. And she hadn't dreamwalked Jesse at all. Max was right, it was too much for her heart, knowing she couldn't be with her husband, not being even able to tell him she was real and not a part of his dream because that wouldn't be fair for him either. To keep another secret…

And now this. They had to assume that dreamwalking was an ability that no one outside their group knew about. Not the Army and not this Dave character. Because if things really went wrong…

None of them was throwing a party because they were going to accept. No, they were more scared than ever about a decision they had all made. And they were all way too aware of the consequences, the very worst consequences if it all blew up in their faces, like Michael had said before. So, if dreamwalk was off the story, so was Michael's natural ability to explode things. He did it so easy, without an effort, when it took Max and Isabel a lot of concentration and some key point to make something explode like their friend –almost brother- did. And even then it wasn't an equal explosion. So Michael would level his own power with their own. No point in showing them how destructive he could be.

The problem had been that they couldn't "hide" Max's unique talents, because healing was the reason they were here to begin with –both because of Liz and the kids with cancer- and it was more likely that they knew about his shield too. Even if they didn't, it was something that might actually come handy for him to show and practice. Because out of all the dark places this was getting them, there was a good thing: the _practice_. They had known since the day they had met Tess that practicing was the key to improve their powers and to reach out for other hidden abilities. So Max getting good at his shield, and the three of them getting good at their shared abilities, might make a real difference in the world out there. Because sooner or later, they were going to get out of there. They just needed to know how to do it, how to elude their enemies, how to be strong, and this Dave could show them. They were certain of that. That argument had actually been the one that had finally convinced Michael.

When they were discussing about how to explain why Max had unique powers and the others didn't, Maria had said that it would be obvious that it was because Max was the king, so he should have more powers or something. Her explaination became more useful when later on they were discussing the events that had led them to accept this offer. Their lives for the past four years. The big mess that had been their lives for the past four years.

Without Isabel dreamwalking, some things didn't add up, such as how they had been able to discover where Max had been in Eagle Rock, or Nasedo's body, or Laurie Dupree. So they had "blamed" it all in Tess. There was no way they could not bring her up, no matter how hard they tried. And including her meant including Nasedo as well. So, instead of Isabel doing it, it would be Tess doing it. After all, she was the queen, wasn't she? She was supposed to have more powers, and hell she was way beyond their own capabilities. Maria had said something about Tess finally being useful for something. After that, they all had talked about Tess in a businesslike tone. After all, Tess was still a shadow over their group.

So, they hadn't changed much about their first months after the shooting. How Liz had found out, how Maria had found out and later how Alex and Kyle had found out. It wouldn't make sense to explain why the sheriff was helping them afterwards without bringing Kyle's shooting. Even the message from home stayed the same, with Nasedo's taking over the Special Unit.

Then they had discussed whether or not they should talk about Future Max. Oh yeah, Liz had explained that mess about two months after leaving Roswell. But Isabel was so not going to go there, because the whole thing was way too painful and too sad. She had so believed the worst of Liz when she had seen her brother so heartbroken. It hadn't been fair. But now they had to decide it: What consequences could it bring to them? Did they even need to explain why Max and Liz were so apart during those months with such a story?

"_Maybe we shouldn't," Liz had said not quite looking at Max in the eye, "because the knowledge that Antarians can travel in time might be a dangerous thing. Even if the Granolith wasn't meant for that, I don't see a point in explaining how great its power was."_

The Granolith. Whatever other purposes it had had, they were sticking to the concept that it was their ticket home. The Skins were looking for it for the same reason: They were dying in here because their husks had been annihilated. The Skins couldn't be written off either. They explained Whitaker's death, Nasedo's death, their trip to Copper Summit –in case they had noticed they weren't around home- and somehow the Summit in New York. Except that Max hadn't liked the idea about talking about the Summit and their duplicates. Could those events go unlooked at?

"_They know about the signal in New York, Max," she had said to her brother._

"_Besides, aren't you going to explain Brody's abductions? Or that guy in La Jolla either?" Maria had asked with a worried tone. How many lies could they manage before someone forgot one and screwed up all their plans?_

So the Summit and the dupes had stayed, too. At that point, it became easier to discuss what wasn't going to be said than what was. It would lead to less confusion as well.

"_We'll leave Kal out of this. I don't want anyone behind his back. I went to California and found nothing in there." Max had been deadly serious about that. And it was for the best too, since none of them had actually met the guy, or had known anything else but what Max had told them. The other thing Max had been dead serious about was his son._

"_There is no way we can leave him out of this," Max had said with a hint of resignation and sadness in his voice. "The Army knew about him, or could have known about him, and I spent way too much time trying to get him back to make another excuse for that behavior. Besides, we have to tell them that Tess came back, since she was the one who destroyed the base."_

"_We can say she hid him away", Kyle had offered with sympathy. _

"_They would search for him all the same," Michael had said in a more practical tone. "Why would Tess come back to just hide him away? It would be obvious she would have left him with Max, as she did."_

"_Wait," Liz said, "we still have to say why she blew up the base. We know it was to protect Zan and all of you in the long shot, but we don't have to say that. Maybe we can say that Zan died in a confrontation with the Army when she was trying to get away and that was why she ended up blowing the base. It would make sense; Tess was capable of that and so much more out of revenge."_

And it also made her nephew disappear of their story forever. Max had agreed. Which only left them with the tiny little detail of Liz's and Kyle's changes. It had been agreed since the beginning that Dave couldn't know about that, but it wasn't as much as not saying it but as other eventual problem: If Max was going to heal person after person for the sake of science, in two years a lot of those persons were going to start changing… what a nice surprise for whoever was studying them that Max could turn normal people into, well, something else. How could Max refuse to heal with a believable reason?

"_You died," Maria had said out of nowhere, at which everyone had turned their eyes at her. They had also agreed earlier that Max's near dead experience wasn't going to be mentioned either, but Maria continued all the same. "I know, I know, we are not supposed to say that, but why did you die in the first place?"_

"_Because I was trying to heal Clayton Wheeler," Max had answered not really understanding Maria's train of thought._

"_Exactly. Aren't you afraid that if you try to heal someone it might happen again? That you might die again?"_

"_I wasn't trying to actually heal him, I was trying to undo the age—", then it had hit Max. It had hit all of them, actually._

"_Maria," Michael had said hugging her, "you are a genius."_

"_I know, don't you forget."_

So, it did create a little problem and a little uncertainty what would they say to the fact that Max had transferred himself to another body, but even if there was no chance in hell he was doing _that_ again, it was more dangerous for him to heal a lot of people –which would drain him all the same- and even more dangerous for the people he was trying to heal. If they thought Max just wasn't _willing_ to do it because it might kill him –or that he at least was afraid it would come to that— maybe they could get away with this one.

And the last thing they had discussed had been Liz's premonitions. It was one thing to deny that Liz or Kyle or whoever else had been changed by Max's healing, but another entirely to explain how they had been able to escape so many times without the benefits of seeing the future. This they couldn't blame on Tess.

"_Maybe we could blame it on us," Max had said with a frown. "We do have flashes from the past, especially when things are intense and we are under a lot of pressure. And since we can't really control them we don't really have to prove it. It might be a good way to explain how we can see the future in flashes. And if Liz gets her premonitions back, she can tell us and we can say we had them."_

"_That's risky," Michael had said thinking about it, "one thing is to say we don't have some powers and another entirely to say we have one that we don't. Can't we just say we had luck or some sort of sixth sense?"_

"_I would vote for paranoia," Kyle had volunteered._

"_Maybe the sixth sense would work," Liz had said looking at Michael. "I mean, lots of humans have a sense for danger before knowing what the source is. And like Kyle said, we can play it on paranoia as well. I mean, if I can't see the immediate future, there's no reason for you to say you can. If it ever comes back, then you can say you are developing it as well."_

Then all had turned to see Kyle, who had stared back with an exasperated "What!". They didn't know what powers Kyle would develop, but the time was getting closer. It had taken Liz around three months from her electric green to her actual power to develop properly. And three months had already passed from Kyle's aluminum-into-the-microwave phase to now. There was just nothing they could do about it, not Kyle, not Max, no one. If Kyle started doing some unexplainable things then lots of their lies would be uncovered. But there was no way around it. That was the weakest point of their plan, but they were going to follow it. Their only chance of getting out of there was on playing their parts to the perfection. Something Isabel had a lot of experience on.

* * *

Liz slowly woke up from their short nap. Laying over her right side, fully dressed with her back to Max's chest and enveloped in his strong arms, she could almost believe that nothing was wrong with the world, or that at least, nothing was wrong with their lives. She moved a little closer to Max –as if that was possible- and tried to not worry too much, or her emotions would wake him up. Just like his had woken her up almost eighteen hours ago. She had rarely felt Max with such intensity, and it had been till now that she fully understood how Max shielded her from his own fears. Love, passion, happiness, amusement, mischief, he never held back. But it was entirely different when he was scared or frustrated or angry. Sure, she always knew, but never that deep. She couldn't blame him, though. She always tried to not let Max know how deep those emotions were inside her. 

She had felt it all from the moment she had woken up till the moment Max had started to regain his powers around 4:00 a.m. Then he had started to slowly stop the flow of his negative feelings and had tried to remain calm and in control. Not only because of her, but because of him as well. Max needed control almost as bad as he needed her when things were so out of their hands. He knew they would look up to him no matter what, and if he lost his ability to think clear, how could he lead them then?

Through all of it, Liz had stayed as in control as she could master. Because Max needed her to be strong too, just as much as she needed him to be. It had been the most terrifying moment of their lives from the instant they had decided to run away from Roswell, and they both had known the importance of remaining strong. So she would be strong, even if it meant to get back to that place and not let them know how scared they all really were. She couldn't believe they were now free just to get back in less than an hour. What were they thinking? _Thinking_, probably nothing reasonable, they were more likely _hoping_.

She had understood perfectly what Max had meant about making a lot of decisions out of hope. He had healed her out of hope that she would keep his secret. They had stayed in Roswell out of hope that things would go back to normal. The three of them, no, the _six _of them, had made decisions out of hope that things would work out. God, she had married him for a lot of reasons, but one was that she was hoping that they would have a happy ending if they were together. After all, they had gone through so much for the only _hope_ that in the end it would be all worth it.

Max's left hand barely moved in front of her, catching her attention. His wedding ring shone with the pale day light. So far, it had all been worth it. There was a time when she had regretted that Max had saved her, but how could she now? How could she regret it while being in his arms? Her eyes went to Max's watch. It was midday now. They would get out of the motel in twenty minutes and into the unknown. Into an offer that could potentially save their lives, or could equally end them.

Midday was a strange hour to be thinking about doom, Liz thought trying to get her thoughts away from the future she could no longer see with clarity. Midday hour was always full of light, when demons couldn't play and when you were safe. Even if it was such a dim midday like today's. Should she hope their future held some sort of midday too?

_We create our own destiny,_ a voice from her past echoed in her head. It was the one line that was consistent with the two lifetimes she knew. It was engraved in their wedding rings and it was a constant reminder that despite everything and anything, they always would decide to be with each other. That brought a smile to her lips, diminishing all her fears for a couple of minutes.

She remembered their wedding day, just twenty days after Max had proposed. She had been 19 years old, and had been eloping, in a weird way, and it had been a perfect wedding. She hadn't played _I Shall Believe_ though. Just like Maria had said before their trip to Las Vegas, she needed to create her own memories, to get rid of the shadows of a future no longer hers. It was only fair for she and for Max.

He had smiled at her through all the ceremony, had actually smiled the entire day, a luxury she rarely had for that long. When Max smiled at her, something inside of her melted, danced, exploded. It was almost as seeing a ray of pure hope or light that made her believe she could face anything. And every time they had been in a dangerous situation, he would turn and smile at her. Sometimes it was a shy private smile, sometimes it was an it's-gonna-be-all-right kind of smile, but most of the time it was an I-love-you smile. She knew all his smiles by heart. Had kind of catalogued them in her mind –and if he knew he would tease her as bad as Maria had with the color schedule board for the Crashdown- and in some rare occasions, he might even show her a different smile, and she would delight herself in memorizing it.

There was only one smile of his that she didn't like, though. Fortunately, he had only made it once. He had turned to her during their graduation ceremony and had smiled. She had smiled back in that same resigned way, and then he had stood up and walked to the podium. While she had been getting out in the darkness of the auditorium, she had thought that Max had had a plan to get himself out of there too. It was till Michael and Max had met with all of them in the desert that it had hit her what kind of smile Max had given her. It had been a good-bye smile. Max had had no plan to get himself out of there, he had just made it for them to escape. It had frozen her right to her soul. Just as bad as waking up in that blue cell had frozen Max.

If she had known back at her graduation day what Max was doing, there had been no power in Earth or Heaven that would have stopped her from going to him. She had felt Max died once, she would not let that happen again without putting a fight. What could she have done then? She didn't know, frankly, it didn't matter now either, but her determination was clearer now than ever. She would do anything for Max, just as he would for her.

Though they both had had a very serious conversation before the day of their wedding about what exactly _do anything_ meant. Because so far, besides the good and great things and the ever so present 'I would die for you', for the sake of the other they had lied, and hurt, and keep lying to each other. Both had had their reasons, their _good_ reasons for that: From letting him follow a destiny, to giving her a normal existence. Things that none of them wanted to begin with. They had to stop _assuming_ what the other wanted, or should do, or needed to do, and start _asking_. It was only when they weren't communicating to each other that chaos would hit their relationship. And chaos was something they couldn't afford. Not because they were running or because all their lives depended on trusting each other, but because they were getting _married_. And this was something that would last till one of them died, if not longer and beyond.

Among other things that they had promised to each other they had decided that no matter what, there was no more time travel. Liz had told him about a week before their wedding day every little detail of his future self and everything that had happened then, without letting him interrupt her. She had to explain in one long terrible speech why she had lied to him, had said and done all those things.

"_Why did you wait so long to tell me?" he had asked with a still shocked face._

"_Because I knew you would feel guilty, like I can feel you are doing now, and there was no point Max. It is all in the past now. I tried to change the future for a better one, for the world, and I did change things. I don't know if for the best or the worst, but I had to do something before it was too late. And when everything started to fall out of place, what was I suppose to say? Go back again and tell me to not listen to your other future self?"_

"_It would have made a hell lot of sense what you were going through," he had argued back, with a mix of pain and disbelief and oh yeah, the ever present guilt. She hated Max's guilt. It was too heavy._

"_Max, stop it. I'm telling you now, okay? No more secrets from each other, that's what we want, right? Whatever your future self thought that he was doing, he was doing it for the best. He didn't know things would go like they did. Besides, I'm willing to bet that my future self had something to do about it too, because when he--"_

_Max had hugged her then, not letting her finished her thought. He had hugged her as tight as if he were expecting her to disappear in thin air. "I should have known," he had simply said. She hadn't bothered asking him _how_ was he supposed to know, because right now, nothing she said would get Max's stubbornness out of the idea that it was somehow his fault. So she had waited for him to calm down and to think about it._

"_It was as much your fault as to whatever Zan did in your past life is. You didn't have control over it."_

_And slowly, really slowly, she had convinced Max that it hadn't been his fault, and that _she_ should have known that he should have known all this before. That neither of them, present or future, had known that Tess would turn on them. That Alex would die, or that they would end up on the road. It had been passed midnight when she had fallen asleep, but she wasn't sure if Max had slept much that night. _

But six nights and seven days later, Max had been right beside her bed with breakfast and a light in his eyes that told her he was feeling as alive as she was for the thought of what was going to happen before midday. That day had been one of the best days of her life. She had thought that their wedding would have to wait because well, they were after all in the run from the FBI, but Max had said he wasn't letting anyone ruining this day. They had both chosen the 21st of June because it was the longest day of the year. It was an astronomical day, a symbolic day, so it was just perfect. She had insisted that she didn't want any alien shortcuts, so she had gone to the nearest town to buy her wedding dress. And since it was one of those months when brides everywhere decided to get married, there hadn't been much to pick up. But she hadn't cared. She had loved the dress that she had worn. Max had loved it too. He had said afterwards that he had never seen a wedding dress that was that easy to take off either. Liz had blushed, just like she was doing now.

"Having nice thoughts?" Max asked with a whisper from behind her, with a hint of mischief on it.

"Remembering our wedding" Liz said with a smile.

"Nice thoughts indeed. I loved that dress." They both laughed. A comfortable silence fell over them. They both loved this short time when they were awake and still in bed. It wasn't always running, running, running, she realized. There were days when she wouldn't have a life-death premonition, and all of them would relax. Days when doing a good deed was actually possible than to just avoid the law.

Except that today was not one of those days when they would do good deeds or avoid the law. This was an unknown day, for putting it in some way, and that crumbled her good mood. She had truly forgotten for a couple of minutes that she no longer could see the future and that she had no idea what was in store for them. It made her doubt.

* * *

Max felt Liz's change of thoughts. He had enjoyed every second of her happiness through their connection, so when her thoughts turned to the dark side, he felt that as if he had been the one going there. Of course, he didn't need to actually _go_ there. He was already there. Max sighed. 

It wasn't that he was rushing into things, it was that time had already run out. They had already been caught, he kept reminding himself. How long before that happened again? What had they learned from this? That they shouldn't sleep? They never had had a chance.

His first instinct had been to keep running too, but he had to consider what was going on with a clear head. He trusted Michael's instincts more than Michael would have believed, and just as Max had said, two weeks ago if someone would have come out of the blue to offer them that, he would have just told Kyle "keep driving and don't look back". But the way it had been done… The logistics behind everything that man had done… If Dave hadn't been interested in their well being, had not intended on keeping true to his word, why bother with so many details? Why invest so much in saying "I know you and what you want"? Of course, it didn't mean he was sincere, but it was telling Max that no one expended that much effort to just crash it later. That was why he had considered it in the first place. It didn't mean that he was sure, though. He just put in perspective that all the options available were equally risky.

He saw on the wall clock that it was already midday. They had to get up and leave in about twenty minutes. They _had, _but they didn't really want to. Not yet, not with so many questions.

"We can still drive to the other direction," Max said in a serious voice, even if it was barely above a whisper, voicing his latest thought.

"I know, don't tempt me," Liz said with a little fear.

"I know I sounded too confident when we were discussing it earlier, but—"

"Shhh… I was feeling your feelings, Max. You couldn't hide them, remember? I'm just as scared as you are, but I do believe too that this can work. That there is too much going on with this deal. Something tells me that this can work."

Max hugged her tighter. He could lose her, God, he could lose every single person he loved the most in about an hour. He didn't care what they did to him as long as it would ensure she would be all right. That they all would be all right.

"I liked it better when you couldn't block me," Liz said with a little warning in her voice. Sure, there were times when they would kind of shut off their connection –especially when she was with the girls and he was with the boys- and left it in the "I'm just sensing if you are okay or not" mode. But when they were discussing things, especially emotional things, it was sort of a not written rule. It wasn't fair to shut the other off. That was the warning note in Liz's voice: I'm letting you feel me, let me feel you back.

"I like it better when you don't know how scared I am," Max replied while opening his side of the connection to that part of himself. It had taken them some time to get used to it, to that sense of the other in this way. Just like the flashes had scared them in the beginning, this intensity of their bond had scared them too. And just like with the flashes, they had learned the beauty of it. It required a kind of commitment, he guessed, and it could be a little scary. But since Liz had become his wife, there was no commitment he couldn't take, even though sometimes he had to be reminded of it. Just like now.

Liz turned over her back so she could talk to him. It always astonished Max that no matter what time or what day, Liz always looked beautiful.

"If this doesn't work… if he is lying and things really go wrong… Max, promise me you won't let them use me against you. That you won't risk yourself because they threaten you with me."

Max didn't notice he had stopped breathing at Liz's request. It wasn't fair. If Liz were asked to do something, whatever, for his well being, she would do it. Why did she want him to promise something she wouldn't promise herself?

"I cannot promise that." He simply answered. Liz sighed, resting her head under his chin, such a familiar gesture by now. She knew he wouldn't promise her that, and yet she had had to try it.

"At least you are not suggesting I stay out of it."

"Even if Dave hadn't said it has to be the six of us, you would have killed me if I have even hinted such possibility."

Liz had been remembering their wedding day, so surely enough she had remembered the day before the wedding. They had been traveling alone for that day, meeting with the others around 9:00 a.m. next morning in their motel, so they had had time to talk. Sure, they had talked that day, but it all had started with a fight. Actually, with their last "big" fight they had had ever since.

He had suggested, actually really asked her if she was sure. Not of loving him, or marrying him, but if she was sure she was ready to give up a normal life with a normal husband. She still could disappear and start over somewhere else. It was _he_ who was the problem, he who was different. Sure, he had changed her, but every cell of her body was human. Every part of her was human. And oh gosh, he had never felt Liz's very human anger rise that fast and with such intensity. It had been the first time he had experienced their bond in such high level. He had gripped the steering wheel almost as if he were expecting to crash with something in front. It had taken a very controlled effort to not press the brake all the way down.

"_What did I do wrong?" she had asked aloud, not exactly facing him, but clearly getting ready to knock some sense into him._

_Max had stopped the car –slowly- and had parked aside the road. He had turned to face her, not understanding at all why Liz was feeling like that, or why she was saying such thing._

"_You have never done anything wrong," he had sincerely answered._

"_Oh no, I did, Max. I must have done so because you are saying that you think I can have a normal life. You seriously believe I can go on and forget you or something and that I can start over. And you know what hurts the most? Your future self thought that too."_

"_Liz—"_

"_No, you are not going to stop me." She had said looking right at him, a storm inside her beautiful eyes. He had seen Liz pissed off before –even at him- but he had never seen it _and_ felt it at the same time. _

"_After 14 years he still thought I could be better with a human. Is that what you are going to think as well, Max? That you somehow bound me to a life of misery? That being with you makes me… alien to my own life? Why is it that you have no doubt that you belong with me but you have to ask if I think I shouldn't be with you?"_

_He hadn't known what to answer back; he had been too absorbed on feeling how much that idea was hurting Liz that he couldn't formulate something coherent to say. But Liz continued anyway, not waiting for him._

"_Why would you do anything to protect me Max, including leaving me out? If you believed that by leaving me on the side of the road would make me safe you would do it in a heartbeat, without asking me what I want. I'd never want that, I've never cared that this isn't safe, and I certainly don't care that this isn't 'normal'." She had paused then to take air, and to gather her thoughts, he guessed, while desperately trying to not let tears fall from her eyes. She still had so much inside, and he knew he couldn't interrupt her, no matter what he wanted to do right then. "And I just can't keep doing it. I can't keep waiting or knowing that you would sacrifice your feelings and my feelings for a chance of a life. A life that neither you nor I want. I would rather die right here than have a hundred years to be alone. But you still won't believe it, will you? Tell me, Max, what do I have to do and I'll do it. How can I prove it to you? How can I prove that there's no life without you?" _

Max closed his eyes at the memory. If Michael thought that feeling Maria being scared was bad, he should try to feel her when he was hurting her. It was the most devastating feeling one could get. Liz did not have to prove anything. By the time she had ended Max knew exactly how she felt. He would never again even suggest that they should be apart. He would never again make anything that remotely might make Liz feel like what she was feeling then.

He had thought back at the time when they had first shared flashes and he had known beyond doubt that Liz didn't see him as a monster or that there were hidden dangers or whatever about him and his alien status. But so much had happened since then. They had hurt each other as no one in this entire universe could. She had lost so much and given so much just to know him. He had had to ask. He had had to know if she was sure. And seeing Liz's silent tears falling that day so long ago had finally made his doubts crumble. He would never ask it again because he would never doubt it again. He would never leave her out of his life just because _he_ thought it was for the best. And _she_ would never think it was for the best either. Just as she had said, a life without each other was just not a life at all.

Now Liz was beside him attempting to joke about him not leaving her out of the deal. Deep down Max knew that if there had been a chance about keeping Liz out, he might have taken it. He had no idea of what he would have done, no matter what he had promised her or how hollow it would feel in his soul to not have her by his side. It just wouldn't have been fair that she suffered because of what he was. Nevertheless, even if there had been such possibility, he would never forgive himself if because of agreeing to the deal she ended up hurt or worse.

Sensing his despair, Liz reached up and gently kissed him, trying –and succeeding- in taking his mind out of those thoughts.

"What do you think he meant by a normal life?" she finally said breaking the kiss, for the first time one of them thinking how things could be for the best. "Because I've been thinking about it and I still have no idea…"

"I guess we are going to find out soon enough," was all his answer.

* * *

Maria splashed water over her face by the third time in front of the bathroom mirror. It was as if, no matter what she did, she still could not awaken. As if the water never really reached her skin, so the coldness of it never really shocked her into wakefulness. She was in shock, she decided. 

And why wouldn't she? Michael was already out of the room knocking on Max's door so they could return to wherever it was that they had come from earlier. It was just insane. It was just… She looked at herself in the mirror. There were no words for what this was. The risk was so huge, but the reward so high too. It was like a degenerated lottery or something. Had they taken the right lottery number?

Maria sighed. She was so tired of living as a fugitive by now. A fugitive of a crime that didn't really exist, and one that she wasn't even part of. Of all the six of them, she was the only one who couldn't do freaky things, the only who had started normal and still remained normal. Sometimes, that made her feel like an outsider. It was as if everybody else knew exactly how to fear this deal except her. Oh, she had her own visions of doom, of course, but there was nothing really 'interesting' about her. She was terrified for Michael, for all of them, but she was also terrified of being left out. She just knew she couldn't be in the outside wondering what was going on with them, that there was no possible way she could help them. A nightmare without ending.

She wished so bad that Liz could tell them what would happen to them once they were inside. It was just ironic that, even if it made her feel like an outsider sometimes, Maria had never wanted any powers at all. Liz was the strong one; she was the one who could deal with warnings from the future. But Maria? She would freak out at the first hint. She knew how to be strong for Michael, how to point him to the right directions when he was lost. She knew how to be the strong friend, the strong lover, the strong person that she needed to be to keep going. But having the responsibility of deciding what was right and what was wrong with your powers? Guiding others and having others counting on you to save them? There was a line between what she could be strong for and what she couldn't be, and losing her 'normal' was in the latter.

Being with Michael had taught her that. She had found somewhat funny when Michael had said that he didn't want to feel like a human being back when they were still in sophomore year. She had thought then that he must have been blind because everything Michael did, he did it with passion. His drawings, his moods, his way of looking at things, even the way he snapped back at her or whoever. There was so much emotion behind all his movements, all his acts, that he had to be aware of how human that intensity was. That underneath it all, he was just scared of being hurt. That was the easy part to read about Michael.

What she had to spend an entire summer learning was how ultimately isolated Michael was because of what he was. She just couldn't understand what having powers was like, why the responsibility for Pierce's death was so overwhelming for her boyfriend. She had wanted to ask Max a million questions, but every time she had attempted to start asking the whys and hows of alien powers, he would just be miserable thinking that Liz had left him in part because of those same powers. They had been so screwed up that summer.

It had taken her months to get Michael back. And she had kept losing him and getting him back again and again. They were always doing it and she wasn't exactly sure why. He was scared for her, and finally that fear that if he lost sight of her it would kill her, had been the final drop. It was suffocating her that Michael couldn't let her go knowing that she would come back. So she had broken up. She had willingly and knowingly broken his heart so he could see that she was going to be okay in the world. That she could be a whole person without him and that ultimately, she wanted to have a life of her own that she could share with him. She wanted out of his shadow, she guessed. But more importantly, she wanted Michael to trust her.

Michael had changed. He had finally understood her decision and had given her the space she was so craving for. It had been weird to be without him, because there were so many things she did miss about him as well. Michael's energy always made her feel so alive. He hadn't lost his intensity at all; he had just learned to control it. To let it flow in a more balanced way, to put it in words, and had learned that being the second in command wasn't being the second in life. He had won her over, and so far, they hadn't broken up again since they had been back together.

And now she was about to lose him, to _really_ lose him. As much as she wanted to believe that things would turn out to be on the good side, more than half of her dreaded the worst. She was going to see those who she loved being held captive, and there would be nothing she could do about it. Maria closed her eyes trying to drown the images that threatened to reach her mind. She could not sense Michael, but she was sure he was putting everything he had on him to feel her emotions. He didn't need to feel her panic. It was perfectly written all over her body. And gosh, she wasn't even sure _why_ Michael was accepting in the first place. Oh really, why they all were accepting.

When their powers had slowly come back, Michael hadn't lost a second in shutting her out. It had taken him a lot of will and focus to do that with the little he could do at the time, but there was no doubt he wanted her "out". Maria sighed in resignation while finally getting out of the bathroom. Whoever had said that love was simple, that it was oneself who made it complicated, had had to be kidding. Michael loved her, and she loved him back, and yet there was nothing simple about their relationship. Maybe the line was meant for human-human relationships, she thought while putting her coat and gloves again.

Granted, Michael had come a long way from not being able to apologize to actually staying on the planet for her, but life was always throwing crap at them, all of them, that a simple relationship was just out of the question. She had had it hard dealing with all that came from being involved with someone with the kind of past that Michael had, but she had endured it. Putting her hand on the doorknob, she paused for an instant. Could she endure it now, too?

Yes.

She would endure it because Michael needed her to be strong. She stilled herself for a second, taking a deep breath. She had to focus on thinking that things _would _work out for the best. Or if not for the best, at least not for the _worst._ Suddenly, it seemed as if not taking those two cypress oil bottles had been a bad idea. A huge bad idea. Gosh, she needed something to relax her, and she needed it fast.

As if her prayer had been listened, when Maria finally opened the door a second later, she found Liz just about to knock on it. The two girls looked at each other for a moment, and then, at the same time, they both reached for the other in a comforting hug. That was way better than any oil on Earth.

"What are we going to do?" Maria whispered to Liz's ear. She didn't need to finish her question, because Liz surely enough was torturing herself with the same interrogate: what were they going to do if the two men they loved were taken from their lives?

"Whatever we have to," Maria heard the other girl said in the same whispered tone. There was no doubt or fear on it, though. She meant it. She would do whatever it took to save her husband, and Maria would be right next to her as well.

"But let's not get there before we have to," Liz said disentangling herself. "Let's just hope that everything would be…"

"Not the worst?" Maria offered with half a smile that didn't quite reach her eyes.

"Yeah."

The two friends turned their heads to see Isabel, Michael and Max talking quietly next to their car. Maria thought for a moment that it was funny that two almost-sisters had ended up with two almost-brothers. What were the odds?

"How's Michael taking it?" Liz asked in a concern voice. Maria lowered her eyes to the floor, the snow slowly falling.

"He's not saying anything."

"What?" Liz asked with a confused look. Maria turned her eyes to her boyfriend in the distance.

"We got into the room, and he started to pace back and forth. It was driving me crazy, but I knew he had to be the first to talk. By the time I was finally sick of watching him, he just sat next to me on the bed and he… hugged me."

"Just that? He didn't start blaming Max for everything or pointing out how this is a big mistake?" Liz too turned her head towards Michael, her eyes narrow with suspicion.

"Oh, he wanted to do that, trust me. But no, after that we just lay on the bed watching the ceiling and he started to talk about everything we've done together. It was as if he had forgotten what was waiting for us in the next four hours."

"You just talked? For four hours? Is Michael even capable of that?" Liz said turning to Maria, now the suspicion redirected at her.

"I think he is now. But it was scary, you know, because it was as if Michael was doing everything he could to not let _me _think about everything that might happen. That by talking and talking he could make all the troubles go away."

"That would be so sweet," Liz said turning a warm look at her almost-brother-in-law.

"He's so scared Liz. He shut me out so I couldn't see it, but what is he thinking? Doesn't he know that he had all his vibes coming my way? It is just plain impossible that I cannot sense him, even if he's so dead serious about we not having the kind of bond that you and Romeo have."

Liz bit her lower lip. Maria's eyes filled with concern.

"Speaking of which, how is Max taking it?"

"He's just as scared as Michael is. Especially since, if things don't work, he's going to feel responsible for it. He would never believe that all of us agreeing to the deal also means that we are all responsible for the outcome."

"That does sound like Max. Is he okay now?"

When their powers had come back around 4 a.m., Max had been the one to check that the car and themselves were, indeed, bug-less, and it had taken him a good effort too. He had said that it should be only him the one to do it because they couldn't afford that Isabel and especially Michael were out of power, just in case.

"Yeah, we just took a nap. He's fine now, or as fine as he can be."

"Ladies," Kyle said stepping out of his room, his word coming out with a white vapor cloud. It was so damn cold in here. "Are we moving on or just waiting to freeze beyond recognition?"

The three of them stared at each other. Somehow, being frozen beyond recognition didn't sound all _that _bad, considering the alternative. Kyle finally sighed for the three of them.

"Listen, this might be the biggest mistake of our lives, but we have already made our minds toward it, right?" The two girls moved slowly their heads in a pathetic attempt to say yes.

"Yeah, and are we forgetting that it might just lead to a happy ending? Okay, maybe _happy_ is too big of a word, but there are advantages, right? Good things can come out of this."

"Kyle," Maria said, "not even you can make our moods to light up." She had started to forget why they had accepted in the first place, and her doubts and fears were starting to get out of proportions again.

"Maria," Liz said putting a comforting hand on her elbow, "Kyle's right. He offered a chance at a normal life, whatever that means, and he could have done so many things to them already. We have to believe that all the work he put behind everything we saw there was for real. That he will keep his side of the deal."

Maria nodded, not at all convinced. A normal life. And she had complained about endless shifts and stupid homework? She used to have that, that sense of doing normal –if boring- stuff, and even when she had met Michael and had been more or less dragged into the alien abyss, she had still had some sort of normal life. Then she had lost it, and now she was sorry she had taken it for granted. So, to contemplate this chance, this almost out of the reach chance to return to something similar seemed somehow inappropriate. In that instant Maria's eyes met with Michael's, and suddenly she just knew that one of the reasons he had accepted to give in into this deal was so she could have that chance. God, she hadn't thought she could love him more, but in that instant she did.

"Okay, Liz," she said placing her eyes in her best friend, "I'll believe it can happen, that he will keep his side of the deal. But if he doesn't, be sure to remind me why we thought he was to begin with."

* * *

"So," Isabel said watching at the two of them after finishing a quick review, "we've got everything covered?" 

"I hope so," Max answered watching passed them to where Maria, Liz and Kyle were now gathering. "Everything we didn't discuss should stay as it happened…"

"This plan sucks…" Michael muttered under his breath. Max and Isabel turned to stare at him. "But I'm following it," he answered in an annoyed tone.

"Michael—" Max started to said but Michael cut him off.

"I know, okay? We all agreed and it makes sense what we've come up with, and I've accepted that, but it still sucks. If it didn't, we wouldn't look like we are about to enter a trap and end our lives in a dark little corner. So why don't we just climb into the car, drive to hell, and be over with it? This waiting is killing me."

Michael tried to do what he had just said, but Isabel didn't move to clear him the way. When he was about to scowl at her, he noticed that Isabel's eyes were filled with unspoken feelings of fear. _Oh no_, he thought, _I could barely deal with Maria, not Isabel too. _But before he could do anything about it, Isabel threw her arms at him, catching him in a tight hug. She loosened a little bit just so she could bring Max into her hug as well, who had stood with an awkward look watching them. And before he knew it, Michael returned the hug as well. He didn't care how cheesy it might be, or the fact that they were standing under the falling snow with the other half of their group staring at them. This was about the three of them as siblings.

"We started together, and we are going together," Isabel whispered as if knowing what Michael was thinking. "This time we are not going to leave anyone behind and we _are_ going to make it." She spoke with a confidence he wasn't feeling, and by the way Max tensed at his right, Michael knew that his best friend wasn't feeling it either. Through all the years they had been together, Isabel was always the peacekeeper between the three of them. She was just as controlling as Max was, but she knew how to disguise it under her charm. She, more than Max, was sure this deal would work. After all, she had been the one to lose the most out of the whole group. Not only her parents, her husband as well. He wondered if Jesse really knew how great was the woman he had let go.

Max and Michael nodded slowly at Isabel when she finally let them go, composed herself and opened the door. This time Michael noticed a fierce determination in her eyes. Even if he was sure he had seen fear before, it was wiped out now, or just very buried inside her. He had always thought he was the strongest one, but in times like this, he wondered if Isabel was just letting him believe that.

Turning to his left, Michael saw that the other three were finally coming their way. He hugged Maria without words –he had no idea what was left to say, anyway- and got himself into the driver's seat. Max seated next to him just as they had agreed. The two of them at the front with Isabel and Kyle at the back, while Liz and Maria were in the middle.

Before he started the engine, Michael glanced at Max, who glanced at him at the same time. He knew Max wanted to say something, but he just nodded almost imperceptible. Michael knew that Max was trying to tell him that he did believe Isabel. One way or another, they were getting in there and getting out of there together. And who knew? Maybe the deal would work.

It wasn't that Michael was sure it would work, hell no, but he had tried to see an argument out of this, and "keep running till they catch us again" hadn't exactly won him over either. Although he hated to acknowledge it, he knew -just like Max had known- that this man had so many resources at his disposal that he could do as he pleased. He had no need to lie to them, but Michael still wasn't buying it. Although his instincts told him this was a dangerous man, his instincts also told him that their chances of escaping the Special Unit in the future were getting slimmer by the second. Without Liz's premonitions, they just were screwed.

He turned his eyes to the road. Isabel had checked out the rooms before their little meeting, and since they hadn't unloaded a thing from their car, there was nothing else left but to drive. Those were the longest and the shortest six miles he had ever driven.

Tension filled the car as no one spoke at all, all of them watching in full alert mode through the windows. He had feared when they had first arrived at the motel that it would snow too much for them to get on the road –towards the warehouse or in opposition to it- but there was not much as one inch over it. When he had seen the gigantic Minnesota map with all the tourist places marked on it hanging over one of the walls at the reception, he had understood why it was so damn cold. He hadn't missed the shock in Max's eyes to see where they were, now that he was thinking about it. He himself was having a little problem believing it.

He tried to rehearse what had been left out and what hadn't of their lives, but he couldn't concentrate at all. He looked at Maria by the rear mirror and tried that her reflection calmed him down. God, he loved her, and here he was, dragging her along to an unsure future. For the millionth time since he had finally agreed, he hoped he had taken the right decision. Ultimately, he could endure anything but to see Maria hurt. He wanted to ask Max how he was doing it, how he seemed to be so confident that the deal would be respected that he was bringing Liz alone. Probably Max wasn't all that confident and Liz would kill him first if he let her out of his life, Michael reflected as he carefully kept an even speed.

He had spent enough time talking to Liz to know that she was just as stubborn as Max. Sometimes he thought she was even more stubborn than the man that was sitting beside him, but then he got to spend time with Max and it all came back to him. Though Michael and Liz had talked mostly about the childhood of their respective best friends with all those embarrassing little details than only best friends know, they had found that they did have some things in common besides that. It had been weird to sort of bond with Liz, to say the least.

So when he caught, in the rear mirror, a glimpse of Liz's worried eyes turned to Max's back, he knew exactly how she was feeling.

"_You know, nothing of this would have happened if Max hadn't saved me," Liz had said while they were eating in the car, parked beside the road, their first break in five hours of driving._

"_Are you kidding me? Max would have killed himself if he hadn't saved you. Everything else that followed wasn't your fault just as much as getting shot wasn't." Michael had answered back, taking a long drink from his Cherry Coke, 'aliens favorite soda' as Kyle called it._

"_No, no, that's not what I'm referring to," Liz had said, putting her hamburger onto her lap, trying to snatch a napkin from the white paper bag at her feet. "Max saved me because he was in love with me since forever."_

"_Yeah, what's the point?"_

"_That till that day I had thought he was this really cute shy guy, the best lab partner I could have asked for, but nothing else. I wasn't in love with him. At that point, we were barely friends. He shouldn't have risked everything like that for someone he didn't even really know. It is so unfair."_

_Michael had stared at her like he was used to stare at Maria when she was making no sense. No wonder those two were best friends. "You are basically saying that you would rather be dead than to be saved by Max that day because he didn't have the guts to talk to you, let alone ask you out, for ten years?"_

"_That's not fair, Michael, Max had your secret to keep."_

"_So did Isabel, and you and I know she didn't think twice about going out on her dates. Max could have asked you and seen what you were really like, if he had dared, of course."_

"_Well, when you put it that way…"_

"_What other way is there to put it? How were you suppose to know he was nuts for you? Even Isabel and I didn't know it was _that_ bad. Besides, you got to know him and fell in love with him, isn't that enough?" Michael had rested his case and had given another bite to his second cheeseburger without giving a second thought to Liz's worries. Though he had to admit that putting things in perspective for Liz was a rare event._

_Liz had sighed, now staring out the window. "If something ever happens to him Michael, I'll never forgive myself." Michael had stopped his hand in mid-air in an unsuccessful attempt to get his soda to his mouth at the seriousness of Liz's voice. _

Liz had meant what she had said, and the scary part was that Max thought exactly the same thing: If something happened to her he wouldn't forgive himself. After all, Max hadn't really made any move on Liz because he was scared of dragging her into a life without normal if things actually worked out between them. Back then he had pitied the idiot who got to hurt either Max or Liz, because Michael was sure there wouldn't be much left for he and Isabel to avenge either of them. Fighting against Max's or Liz's fury for the loss of the other was something Michael couldn't even imagine.

What he _could_ imagine was what he would do if someone hurt Maria, and it wasn't pretty. Opposite to Max, Michael had never wanted Maria out of his life, except for that long summer after he had heard his destiny. Max sometimes had the feeling that Liz might be better without him; Michael had always thought that as long as he could give Maria now, nothing else mattered. A very efficient advice from his mother-in-law, by the way.

He wondered if Amy would approve of this deal or not. In the last year in Roswell, Amy had gotten that sort of happy, if resigned, look that told him that she had finally accepted that Maria was going to end up with him. He had even encountered her in the super market a couple of months after Maria had broken up with him the last time, and had said to him that he shouldn't worry, but that he seriously needed to think what Maria needed from him and to not spoil it for lack of understanding. He had thought about it, _a lot_, and slowly he had been able to see not only what he loved about her, but why Maria kept coming back to him, as her song said. He had taken the time to listen to her lyrics when she was singing under her breath at the Crashdown, got to ask Liz what Maria did before he had come around. If she wanted to be the 'real' Maria or the Maria from the past or whatever, he would help her do it. Of course, first he had to know how she had been back then, a task that hadn't been all that easy to ask until he had been on the road alone with Liz.

He could picture her so well while Liz was telling him all the funny stuff she did, all the dreams she talked about. How they both studied after the shifts and how sometimes they bought each other's loyalty for a big favor. For a moment he had understood Max's fascination in watching Liz from afar for those long years. If Michael could, he might as well go back just to see Maria in her element, without any shadow of their secret. To see her living a normal life, a way of life that had never been permitted to Michael, Max or Isabel. He had realized then that _that_ was exactly what he had taken for her: A sense of normalcy.

Michael kept driving, the others kept looking, and his thoughts went out to this morning. It had probably been the first time he had said he loved her with all the details of why without him running away in the next two minutes, or having to leave the planet in the next two hours. It had felt good, even if he knew there was the possibility he might never again tell Maria exactly why he loved her so much. Once behind those gates, he was almost sure that his time with the girl that had his heart could very well be numbered, and the numbers were getting close to zero.

When they entered that motel room, he had wanted to shout, wanted to point out all the stupid mistakes that had led them to that trap, blame it all on Max or Isabel or himself or on _someone_, and when he was about to do exactly that, he had seen Maria, sitting all alone in that bed, watching him pace arguing with himself inside his head. He had felt like the worst selfish being in the whole Universe. In an instant, he forgot everything about himself and just sat next to her, next to the only earthly thing that he really cared about, and hugged her. He could not stand to see Maria alone. It was just wrong. So he had talked. As uncharacteristic as it was from him –after all, he had never believed in 'words'- he had done it as a way of saying 'don't give up on me yet', because if he could make Maria feel that he was there, that he had always been there, then he would be able to face this future.

If by some miracle things work out, Michael thought as he could now see the gates of the place were the warehouse was in the distance, he would make sure that Maria got as much space and got to make her dreams come true. Maybe not all of them, but at least some of them. He would ensure that she could get as a normal existence as it was permitted, because in the end, it was only fair that she got back what he had taken away from her.

* * *

Author's Note: The paragraph that starts with "He had smiled at her through all the ceremony, had actually smiled the entire day…" was inspired by the song "When I see you smile" by _Bad English_ of their album Bad English. 

The line "he had done it as a way of saying 'don't give up on me yet'", was inspired by the song "Take me away", by Lifehouse of their album _Stanley Climbfall._


	6. Q & A

Thanks for the notes! I have already 24 chapters written, but I take my time on posting ;)Thanks for coming back to read though!

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**VI**

**Q & A**

The snow had stopped falling outside the square building. Sitting in the middle of the only office that was inside of it, Dave stared at the report with wide eyes. "Tell me this isn't true," he said without lifting his gaze to Ray.

"Sorry, but it's true. Jake ate those cookies by mistake."

Reading the last lines of the report, Dave sighed with resignation. Of course it would happen today. Jake was allergic to almonds, everybody knew that, from the guy at the front gate to the girl that was developing the next gigantic computer virus in her free time in level five. But he guessed that with things so hectic and all, Jake had probably just grabbed the first thing he'd laid his eyes on and eaten the damned cookies. None of them had even stopped to sleep, much less to eat, in the past two days. Probably Jake hadn't slept at all since the kids had arrived almost four days ago.

"How is he doing?" Dave asked putting the report on his desk.

"He'll be fine, just give him a couple of days to get over the rash… I know you wanted them to meet him today and all, I'm sorry." Ray said with a sympathetic smile, while he glanced at his watch, "By the way, it's getting closer to the hour."

"I know," Dave said standing up from behind his desk. "They are probably at the gate now." Just as in sync, his desk phone rang. He picked it up to hear Gary's polite voice telling him that the Suburban had just checked in at the front gate and that he had directed them to building number 4 as Dave had told him before. Without waiting for a response, Gary hung up.

"They are coming," Dave said walking through the room to the door, a mixture of relief and apprehension building up in his stomach. He was about to explain a rather complicated and strange plan, and he wasn't sure if it would sound exactly the way he wanted it to sound. They both got out of his office and Dave heard the door closing in behind them. Of all the places in this complex, it was in this sort of living room where Dave liked to relax. So out of reach of everyone working, working, working. It was weird that it was in the space where he felt calmed and comforted where he was going to hold this meeting.

"This is going to be interesting," he heard Ray saying in a good mood behind him as they both walked to the front door. He wasn't sure if he was saying it because Ray was finally getting to see them up close and personal or because he enjoyed the sight of Dave being nervous.

"Yeah, it should," was all his response as he heard the car being parked outside the building. It probably didn't look like much of a 'building' to them, since only one story of it was above the ground. All the important installations were concealed underground because of the cold and to keep prying eyes away, as any good secret facility builder knew. Although now that he was thinking about it, not all his 'secret' facilities were underground; some were in very viewable buildings, just "hiding in plain sight".

* * *

Ray kept a little distance in the background as he watched Dave opening the door. For a moment he had thought that Dave was going to wait for them to knock on the door or something, but had decided at the last minute to open the door himself before anything else happened. It amazed Ray that one instant Dave could be almost fidgeting with his own coat and that in the next moment he'd gotten a grip on himself so fast and was so controlled that no one would believe this man ever had doubts. It also reminded Ray of how much Dave trusted him if only by letting him see how nervous he could get. 

The second the door was opened, Max's eyes met with Dave's in an instant, his breath coming in a white poof, all the muscles of his body tensing. Max then moved his eyes to see Ray. For one flying instant Ray had known that Max feared the worst and that his presence wasn't exactly calming the 19 year old boy. Dave then cut the eye-contact contest, though, making Max's fear disappear, replaced by a very serious look. _You still need practice to conceal your emotions_, Ray thought comparing Dave's earlier behavior to Max's now.

"You better get in before you freeze," Dave's words came making white puffs as well. Max had then turned to see someone at his left side –Ray couldn't know who since the door was blocking his view- and the six of them had slowly walked in. First Max, then Liz, Maria, Kyle, Isabel and Michael. The other five members of the group each eyed him with surprise and apprehension when they entered, and Ray had the so unfamiliar feeling of not knowing what to do. So he had just made a short inclination with his head at each of them as they were passing. Michael glanced at him with a particularly suspicious look.

Ray knew that Dave had chosen his own private living room because it was practical. It was the only facility that had this 'cozy' looking aspect and it was the best heated one too. Besides, showing them the underground complex first and not later would just ensure that they were more than likely going to feel like they were trapped. And the last thing in the world that Dave wanted was for them to feel uncomfortable. One of these days, Ray thought while the kids were standing, glancing around, I'm going to find out why Dave is so damned careful with these kids and their feelings.

Dave stood in front of them, and Ray moved a little closer, standing besides Dave's right hand, silence starting to feel oppressive over all of them. Finally, as if Dave had decided that it was enough time for letting them take the lead, he motioned to the large dark black sofa with his left arm, clearly inviting them to sit.

As the six of them deliberately moved slowly to take their seats, Ray and Dave did the same sitting in an equally large sofa in front of them. Ray loved to take naps on these pieces of furniture because they were not too soft or too hard. They were just his size too, and quite roomy as well. They were just perfect, and given that he hadn't slept much in the past four days, all these thoughts about comfort weren't exactly making him more alert.

"You have questions and I have answers, so shoot," Dave said leaning forward, placing his elbows over his knees, clasping his hands in between and letting them hang freely. Ray sat upright, not wanting exactly to look suspicious, but it was just that, showing such informality like Dave was doing, wasn't Ray's style either. He guessed that the fact that he knew that three of the six persons in front of him could send him flying away through the window without as so much as waving their hands, didn't do wonders to let his guard down. Sure, there wasn't much he could do against waving hands, but he just couldn't bring himself to be that… _open _in front of them. At least not yet.

"Who is he?" Michael asked right away. The remnant part of the group stared at him as well. Dave turned around almost as if he had forgotten that Ray was, in fact, sitting right beside him. Then he smiled one of those almost invisible smiles of his when something was hitting him hard. It wasn't exactly that he had forgotten that he was by his side, he had probably forgotten that _they_ didn't know who he was. Sometimes Ray thought that Dave even planned what exactly he was going to forget in these meetings.

"He's Ray," he said, now addressing them, "he's the person who tracked you down ever since you left Roswell and who planned how to… _get_ to you four days ago." And the one who would have broken you free if the FBI had gotten to you too, thought Ray as he watched the kids' reaction to him. It was as if their faces were getting paler by the second and it had nothing to do with the cold outside. When Dave didn't make any other comment about why Ray was there, the six of them started to look at each other, almost as if deciding how much they could –or should- ask.

"You said you could give us a normal life, how?" Max asked breaking the silence that was threatening to settle in again. Dave looked at the floor for two seconds, the way he always did when he was gathering his thoughts. This wasn't exactly going to be such a short answer.

"I make deals of all sorts with all sorts of people, but it was quite difficult to figure out how to keep my part of the deal with you all. Now, before I answer you, there's something that you must factor in: the _other_ part of the deal that is upon me. I can try to give you a sense of normal life as long as it doesn't conflict with the fact that I have to protect you from prying eyes as well." Dave made a short pause, giving them time for the information to settle in.

"That means that, even if I can not give you a house in the country with a white fence, I can give you a space in here of your own. I want you to follow a career, of course—"

"What do you mean 'a career'?" Liz asked interrupting Dave for the first time they had met. Go Liz, Ray thought smiling to himself. Almost nobody dared to interrupt Dave, especially not during this kind of meeting. It was something he admired from the young brunette. But that aside, Ray felt that Dave was going too fast with this. Still it was Dave's talk, not his.

"Well, you have just graduated high school. Part of 'normal' is to get you to continue. I don't expect you to sit around and do nothing while you are not keeping your side of the deal."

"That doesn't exactly explain it," said Isabel in a serious tone, her eyes slightly narrowed.

"I guess not," said Dave thinking about it for a second. "Look, our deal is for an indefinite time, so you should study something; get a career, so whenever you decide to leave, you'll have some direction as to where to go, your chance of getting a normal life as I said at midnight. Of course, I can't get you to college, but I can get college to come to you. I don't think I've ever made deals with anyone as young as you, so I'm not sure how exactly that's going to work. But you can choose something you want to study and I'll see what I can do about that. Surely something that we do in here must interest you."

"What if we don't want to study?" asked Michael in a rather rebellious voice. Dave looked at him slightly frowning. Of course Dave couldn't understand Michael's question. Dave had always loved to learn stuff. That was why all his companies, all his projects, were devoted to finding out _something_, to research, to discovery, to _learning_.

"Well," Dave said sorting it out, "there are a lot of other things you can do meanwhile, whether you want to study or not. We have a lot of activities to ensure that no one has to go out in this cold. You'll be able to work in other areas too. You'll get to see for yourselves how big this complex is. Is actually the biggest I own, it is like a little village or something." Dave said with pride. Still, Ray hated cold, so being stuck in here wasn't exactly a party for him.

"How many people do you have?" Kyle's voice sounded a little high pitched.

"Around 500 people live in here. Well, more like _down_ here. They are all the researchers, and engineers and all the people you need to run a place like this."

"Wait, wait, wait," Liz said moving her hands to stop Dave from talking. "What exactly you _do_ in here?"

"All kinds of engineering. From blue prints to space shuttles to engineering new crops of rice. That's why I brought you here in the first place. Because of your genes. Because of what you can do about altering molecules and whatever else you can do to the environment around you. My best scientists in biology, physics and chemistry are somewhere down there. Let me tell you, it saves me a lot of time in putting a team together to keep all this data about your progress while getting you out of the country. Which gets me to the next point. By all means, you are not my prisoners, but it wouldn't be wise if you leave this facility, at least not for a while."

"Not for a while?" Michael said in a rather confused tone. Ray smiled at the equally confused looks of the other five. Well, in a figurative way, they _were_ going to be prisoners for some time, they just had not expected to not be prisoners in a _literal_ way. This was one of the points he had argued the most with Dave. And just as he and Dave had settled on a plan that would work for them both, Ray now was hoping it would work with these six as well.

"The Special Unit is right now wondering how on Earth you managed to just, let's say, disappear. I can't guarantee you that none of them is going to spot you in town or anywhere else. Taking down the Special Unit is going to take some time and it doesn't mean at all that I can completely wipe it out. There's a lot of politics involved, some favors to pay and some favors to collect as well. It is not going to be as easy as the first time that someone else dismantled it because you blew up a whole military base this time around."

"That wasn't us!" Maria said in a rather indignant voice.

"That doesn't matter, they think you did, that's enough for them. And I can't be sure you aren't followed by someone else. So I can only protect you as long as you let me. But that doesn't mean than in the near future you won't be able to go outside of this complex. As much as I love it, I know it can get boring if you don't change scenery. Still, until I'm sure that it is safe, you'll have to stay here, out of sight."

"You said you were going to protect our families," Isabel said in a cold voice, almost as if whatever the answer to that question was, it would make it worth the condition to stay 'out of sight'. Ray understood why she was being so… skeptical. After all, as long as Dave decided it wasn't safe, they would have to remain there, prisoners, both in a figurative and a literal way.

"Yes," Dave continued explaining his plan, "even though I can't just wave my hand over the problem and make it go away, I've been working on that for some time now, just in the event that you might accept. Since you haven't contacted your families in almost six months you have made that part of the plan a lot easier than what I expected. As much as the Special Unit would love to keep breathing over your parents' necks every second of the day, the fact is that they don't have all the manpower that they need. So they had to hire a sub company to take over the surveillance while they chased you all over the country. Of course, we made ourselves very available."

"It is you who watch them?" Isabel said in surprise.

"Yes. We make our report to the Special Unit if something interesting happens. We also make sure that _nothing_ interesting happens to your parents. But if it comes to it, now that you are here, we can get your parents to safety, even if it blows our cover. You might want to know that a lot of the information that we used in your blue rooms earlier was gathered from this surveillance team. They are really good at what they do."

"How do we know," Liz asked in a serious tone, looking Dave straight in the eye, "that this is true? Any of it? You could be making up all of this."

"Ah, proof. Of course. Now, think about this. I can't get you to them, and for the time being, I can't bring them to you either. It would be foolish, not to mention risky, for you, them and me. I can, however, establish some sort of communication line. Mail, e-mail, sometimes even by phone. Even if it is my company keeping an eye on your folks, the Special Unit is also keeping an eye on us, so we don't have all the freedom in the world. Eventually, we can arrange some sort of visit time. But I don't have a magic wand to make all these changes right away. You can talk to them, just not face to face."

"So basically," Max said after ten seconds had passed, leaning a little bit forward as well, almost as if trying to regain a little control over everyone's fears, "we can keep in touch with our parents to make sure they are all right, and meanwhile we'll be stuck down here, studying or whatever else there is to do. But what exactly do you want from us?"

Almost imperceptibly, Ray noticed them almost bracing themselves for the worst news in the world. They have all the right to expect that, Ray thought glancing at all of them. With their abilities, I would be worried too.

"Well, first of all, that you eat properly." Dave was saying now, leaning back against the sofa. But before they could ask what the hell was Dave talking about –and they were going to do that just in a second- Dave continued.

"It is not the FBI who is gong to kill you in the long run, you know-- it's stress. You are all suffering on one level or another from anemia because of the lack of good meals. Your immune systems are about to crack", he said pointing at Kyle and Maria, who were sitting together, "and I bet your coordination is not exactly improving because of the lack of sleep either," he now said pointing at Michael, who just scowled at him, "just to mention some points. You've been living under pressure for way too much time, and trust me, the body can get you just so far. There are a lot of things that we haven't even gotten to analyze about you, but it's clear that your health has seen better days. So you are going to take care of yourselves."

Max lowered his eyes to Liz, clearly not having expected this. He also made eye contact with his sister, who was beside Liz at his left, and then they both returned their gazes to Dave.

"Secondly, we need to get your story straight." The six of them tensed as one at this. Not exactly what you have in mind, Ray wanted to tell them, but you'll get your time for that. Dave noticed too, because he suppressed a little smile that threatened to escape, managing to continue all the same.

"There are only three people in this whole complex who know the truth about you: Ray, Jake and me. Now, Jake is going to be your guide when it comes to your powers and how to use them, but he couldn't come. You'll meet him later. Anyway, whatever your real story is, I'm not interested in everyone knowing that you are half humans and half aliens. So the official story is going to be that you were part of a genetics experiment back in the eighties and that you are as far as you know, even if very gifted, human kids. If anybody asks, and I'm sure they will, you work at the genetics lab. You don't need to give more explanation than that."

"Why don't you want anyone knowing the truth? What difference does it make to you?" Maria asked with curiosity, the other 100 humans curious as well, while the other three had a rather suspicious look.

"Because I can't afford the FBI knowing that you are under my wing. I can't ensure that there won't be any leaks. So if this story gets to unwanted ears, even if I'm sure they would be interested in gifted kids, they won't really bother to learn who you are and where you come from. But if you put the word alien anywhere in the story, even the word Roswell in it, they'll know it is you, or someone like you. So this is just to ensure that no one will bother to learn why you are here or why I brought you here."

Leaks. Ray hated the word, especially since it was going to be his job to ensure that these kids stayed far away from the Special Unit or anyone else like them.

"Now," Dave said, "I _do_ want to hear your side of the story, but we'll arrange some time along the week to do it properly. When I'm not around, it'll be Ray who you can turn to for any inquiries."

"You won't always be here?" Liz asked with uncertainty.

"No, I travel a lot. This might be my biggest complex, but I have lots and lots of smaller ones. But you'll always be able to contact me if you need to. I trust Ray, though, that's why he's staying in here."

Seven pairs of eyes turned to him, and he almost wanted to glare at Dave for the unwanted attention. Ray was the kind of guy who liked to watch and take mental notes, but he had never been known for giving long speeches. When Dave had decided that he would bring the kids in here and that Ray would be their babysitter, he hadn't been exactly happy. Jake had joked about that for a whole two weeks as well, but by now he was used to the idea. Besides, his role in here was more to make them feel there was someone they could turn to than for anything else.

"And last but not least, I know you must have a great concern about what you'll be asked to do in the lab." Michael, Isabel and Max looked a little bit paler –as if that were possible- and as if they had stopped breathing altogether at Dave's words. Kyle, Maria and Liz looked just as apprehensive and as tense as if they were facing a man with a gun.

"You are not obliged to do everything that you are asked to, but I do expect that you'll be reasonable as to why you won't do whatever Jake wants. You'll work with him on the details of this, of course, but you can say 'no' or 'enough'. I don't expect you to kill yourselves to prove something, or to think that the deal is over if you don't want to do some things for whatever reason."

He wasn't exactly sure why, but Ray had expected that they would look a little bit relaxed, or relieved by this revelation, but instead, they just looked the same: worried and scared. They do not believe it, Ray thought, and why should they?

"Now, I suppose you have your own conditions?"

Ray's previous mental question seemed to repeat itself on their minds: why should they have any conditions? They really weren't expecting it by the looks of uncertainty among them, but Max took the lead –as usual when they were at a loss for words- and got that so controlled way of his again.

"You will never again touch any of us without our knowledge and approval, or ask us to do anything without explaining to us the real motives behind it. We don't want any surprises."

Dave nodded, Max turned to Michael almost as if expecting his friend to say something else. Then, returning his gaze to Dave, Max continued.

"We won't use our powers to harm any one, for any reason, and you will ensure the safety of everyone in this group while we are here."

"That's an understatement," Dave said in a good mood.

"I just wanted to make it crystal clear," Max said in a deadly serious tone. "And when we decide to leave, you won't follow us or give our whereabouts to anyone at all. We will cooperate as long as we feel that you are keeping your side of the deal, but trust me, you won't want us here if we don't feel that."

Ray tensed at these words. He wasn't expecting Max to make any threats, or promises, or whatever that had been. But Dave only smiled, in that so careless way he did when someone wasn't getting his points.

Dave got up, six pairs of eyes following him upward as well, not sure of what to do. "Then we won't have any problems. You should also know that this is not a contract where everything is set in stone. You keep your part of the deal by cooperating, and I'll keep my part of the deal by protecting you and your families and giving you as much of a normal life as I can while you are here. The details are always changeable. If you have any problems, you can reach me and we'll work it out. If you want to break the deal, you _better_ reach me and tell me so. I don't like being left in the dark. But know this, if I think you are a threat of any kind, to me or whoever else that I'm protecting, I will terminate the deal immediately." Dave ended with the same deadly serious tone Max had used. Clearly, Dave had the upper hand on this one, and was telling Max so too. Losing a little bit of the seriousness that had settled on his features, he continued:

"So, do we have a deal?" he said, extending a hand to Max, who in turn glanced at all the others.

Slowly, almost reluctantly, they all nodded at him, so Max stood up and shook Dave's hand with a confidence that Ray knew Max wasn't really feeling inside. Be smart, all of you, he thought while watching this, and don't break Dave's trust. You really don't want to know what it's like when _he_ is the one chasing you.

* * *

Kyle stared at the huge cafeteria with the same round eyes with which he had been staring at everything he had looked at around here for the past half hour. The six of them were seated while Ray was talking to someone by one of those ear-mouth pieces that he had seen spies use in movies. They were alone for the first time since they had entered building number four. Dave had excused himself around fifteen minutes before and had left them with Ray's company, who was now showing them the cafeteria at the request of their grumbling stomachs. Maria had been bright red when Dave had stopped talking about the fact that he didn't like people knowing he was around and that they should keep that information to themselves as well, when they had all heard her hunger. For a moment Kyle thought that Dave was going to ask why they hadn't eaten –especially since after Maria's stomach, Liz's joined in the concert- but had simply turned to Ray and asked him to lead them to somewhere with enough fast food. "We'll talk later", he had said and taking a different corridor, had disappeared, already talking to someone on his own communication device.

Dave was just a plain weird guy. Which didn't exactly settle down Kyle's doubts or fears.

"I don't get it," Michael said in a low voice, the six of them leaning forward on the table, so no one else could hear them, "why is Dave being so…"

"Convenient?" Maria supplied with the same suspicious look. "You've noticed too?" she said with a sarcastic tone.

"He's trying too hard to convince us that this is the right choice," Liz said staring at the middle of the room, where a buffet was being served.

"You are doubting him now?" Maria asked in dismay, losing her suspiciousness of just a minute ago, almost as if Liz not being sure was the last thing Maria wanted to hear. Actually, Kyle wasn't exactly thrilled about it either.

"I never said I totally believed him, but this… Granted, we didn't know what he meant by 'normal' before, but studying for our future… It wasn't exactly what I had in mind… I'm just not sure if this is better or worse."

"What do you mean better or worse?" Maria continued with the same dismayed tone, "I thought you'd be delighted by that!"

"It could be a tactic," Liz said thoughtfully. "We can decide to follow something, and actually stay in here four or five years till we finish… Or we can end up working for him, or… I don't know… why would he be so convenient, as you said?"

"We can always leave, right?" Kyle asked, now seeing that some girls and some guys were getting in line to eat. Overall, there weren't too many people in here, being 1:40 p.m. and all… "I mean, I know it wouldn't be all that easy but…"

"Let's give it a try," Isabel said turning around to see what exactly Liz, Maria and Kyle were so fixated with behind her. "I think we are supposed to get in line," Isabel said, changing the subject a little bit too cheerfully. Kyle saw then that Ray was walking to their table.

"Sorry about that," Ray said putting his spy-like device into one of his jeans' pockets. He and Dave had put them on as soon as they had entered the complex, but apparently, Ray wasn't going to be interrupted again. "So, you are hungry, I'm hungry, let's go and grab lunch. I haven't eaten since yesterday." Ray started walking and five pairs of eyes fell upon Max. Though Max had seemed to Kyle as if he were lost in thought, the instant they all turned to look at him, Max let go a half resigned, half annoyed sigh. When he got up, the rest of the group got up as well.

They all fell in a line behind Ray. Max, Liz, Maria, Isabel, Kyle and Michael. It had almost been a silent agreement that Michael would always have the rear since Max was always in front. Isabel tried to stay in the middle as well. Despite the fact that down here the temperature was just at the perfect level for them to take off their coats and gloves, Kyle felt a chill run through his spine. _You are not my prisoners, _Dave had said, but he was feeling very much in prison between those walls, no matter who had said what.

"Okay, this is how it works. The cafeteria is always open; buffets are refilled every three hours. If you just want a snack, there are vending machines every two corners. You don't need coins. Then there's the option that you can always stay at your apartments and cook for yourselves. God knows that all the people from Asia hate that we don't have enough condiments in here. In fact, we make a special offer for condiments and rare foods once a month, if you want to order something." They were all looking at Ray as if he had grown a second head. Ray stopped with his hand in midair while reaching for a knife. "What?" he finally asked with confusion.

"Our own apartments?" Maria asked with one eyebrow raised.

"Yeah. We were going there when your stomach growled," Ray said with a sympathetic look. "I will explain how things are run here once we are seated, okay?"

So they all went with a little bit more confidence around the four large tables. Kyle had a little bit of a problem believing that all that food would disappear in three hours, but then again, hadn't Dave said that 500 people lived down here? _Where_ were all those 500 people at lunch time? There were about seven types of salads, like eighteen different kinds of sandwiches and hamburgers and as many desserts as Kyle had seen in the biggest bakery back in Roswell. And those were only the first two tables. Sure enough the one next to this one was filled with fish, chicken and all kinds of red meat. Michael went to that table first. Kyle shook his head. One day Michael would see that red meat was bad for the body.

"There so much food in here that I'm feeling un-hungry now…" Maria said staring at the desserts.

"Are you kidding me?" Kyle said, diving his fork into the smashed potato, "I don't think we have had the choice of eating any of this since we left home! And I'm not even factoring in that Dad was a lousy cook. Come on DeLuca, if the pod squad decides that this is too much for them, we might not get the chance to eat this well again in months." Kyle moved next to Michael, deciding that he was definitely in for a good chicken wing.

Contrary to Maria, Michael was definitely _not_ feeling un-hungry. Kyle doubted that Michael's plate was going to be big enough for all that he was intending to put on it. "They want us to use our powers?" Michael said still staring at his plate, "Then I'll use my powers". And sure enough his plate grew a good two inches in diameter, making it so that all his food was perfectly placed all around it. I hope I'll get something like that for a power, Kyle thought as he saw Michael heading for their own table. He was the last to join, deciding at the last minute that he could perfectly well return for his dessert once his plate was empty. There sure were enough of them.

"The tabasco order will arrive within the next two days, so you'll have to do without it for now." Kyle heard Ray saying while he was pouring ketchup on his hot dog and French fries as if he were trying to drown his food. The three tabasco consumers of the table didn't make any comment about it, though. Ray, seated at one of the ends of the table, appeared unaffected by this while trying to open his Pepsi. "I hate these things," he said in a low murmur after his third attempt at opening the can. Michael, who was next to Ray's left, looked as if he wanted to ripped the damned can out of Ray's hands, open it, and give it back in two seconds. The can snapped open, and all six of them returned their eyes to their own food, finally attempting to eat. Kyle hadn't noticed he was this hungry until now, but sure enough he wouldn't have been able to pass anything through his throat an hour ago. None of them would.

"Okay, now that we are eating, I can get to answer your questions about this place. You wanted to know about your apartments? Maybe I should explain how the complex is divided. It was designed in a cross fashion. Building 4 is right at the center of it. We are now at the south wing, which includes all of the non-research facilities. That would be the cafeteria, of course, the gym, the library and the apartments. It is a pretty big area, so don't worry if you get lost the first couple of days."

Ray took a big bite out of his hot dog, clearly expecting that they would ask something else because he was too hungry to keep chatting.

"You mean we'll have an apartment for the six of us?" Maria asked, her food untouched. Ray swallowed hard, helping himself to a fast drink.

"There are five apartments for the six of you, since you two are married." He said pointing at Max, who was in front of Kyle at the other end of the table. No one had wanted to take the seat right in front of Ray. "They are not all that big, of course, but are pretty functional. They are all in a row so you can keep an eye on each other." Max looked at Michael from across the table, clearly finding that sentence a little unnerving.

"Though there is surveillance in all the labs and corridors, and including the recreation centers, once you enter your apartments you are on your own. Though it's one hell of a problem for security reasons, you are not the only ones who want privacy. Dave even said you can fry the entire electrical system if you had doubts about you not being watched." Ray reflected, taking another bite. By now the six of them had started to eat too, the smell of the food too strong on their senses and their stomachs too empty to wait another minute.

"How long have you known Dave?" Max asked out of the blue. Kyle glanced sideways while cutting a piece of his chicken, the white sauce blending with his smashed potato.

"Hm… about eight years, I guess." Ray paused for a second, as if trying to decide something. "I'm not going to lie to you, Dave is no saint, but he'll keep his word. Half the people working in here made one or another kind of deal with him and trust me, this system wouldn't work if he didn't keep his part of the offer."

"How many people have said no?" Liz asked without looking up, all her concentration on cutting her fish into little pieces.

"Not as few as you would think, though Dave thinks a lot about his offers. It's not something he does that often either. He carefully studies what the other person wants and what he wants in return. If he can work it out, well, deal."

"And no one leaves this place?" Maria said staring at Ray, almost bracing herself for the cold reality that this place was, indeed, a prison. Kyle wondered how he was going to explain this to his father, assuming, of course, he was actually going to speak with him anytime soon.

"No one wants to leave. Didn't you know Minnesota has the worst weather in this country?"

"That's not what she meant," Michael said curtly while putting more pepper on his meat. He had clearly noticed before that there were no tabasco bottles in sight and had gone with the next best thing. Still, Ray finished his last bit of hot dog before answering Maria correctly.

"Everyone in here is here for a reason. They do research of one kind of another, and trust me, they are really happy staying inside. That's why this place is half empty at lunch time and why it is open 24 hours a day. Most of them come when they remember they have to eat. And even then half of them just go to the vending machines. But if you want to know if they can go outside whenever they feel like it, well, that would be a _sometimes._ If we had people coming and going all the time other people would get suspicious about what we do in here. If they had to live in town, leaks would be too probable. Security would be a complication after a complication."

"So we are all stuck in here," Michael said matter of factly, just before sticking a big piece of meat inside his mouth.

"You won't see many of them though. People are very jealous of their work. Remember when Dave said that if anybody asked you should just say that you worked at the genetics lab? Well, they would answer exactly just that, with whatever lab they are at. Don't push any further. Having bad neighbor relationships is not healthy when they live right next to you all the hours of the day."

Wiping his hands on a napkin, Ray reached into his left pocket and retrieved six white cards, all with their silver cords, identical to the one Kyle could see that Ray was wearing around his neck and remembered seeing on Dave's neck as well.

"These are for you," he said while passing them, the six of them forgetting their foods and staring at their own card. They had one silver band in the middle, and they were about four by two inches, each one just like the other. "To avoid problems we created these cards. Each color represents an area, so everybody knows where you are from. Some labs required more security than others, so certain cards have certain codes."

"They are keys," Liz said turning her eyes to Ray. "Which area means white? Genetics?"

"Actually, white means free pass."

"You are giving us access to all areas?" Max asked totally forgetting his cherry coke in mid-sip. Ray smiled at this.

"Well, it was more of a convenience. If you can change colors and open gates, what was the point of giving you any color or code to begin with? Besides, Dave said that if you wanted to meet the other researchers while they were yelling at you and kicking you out of their labs, that was your problem." Ray started to pick at his French fries now that his hot dog was gone. Kyle had the feeling that if he could, Ray would stand up and pick another one.

"What are the research facilities?" Liz said, putting her own key card around her neck as they all did the same. "I mean, Dave was very vague about that."

"Dave is very vague about everything," Ray chuckled, "It's quite annoying in the beginning, isn't it? But you should get used to it, it doesn't get any better. Anyway, research facilities? Well, engineering as in machines, and blueprints with all the physics and their work are in the west wing, right with our computer department. Then genetics is in the north wing, which involves all sorts of things I can't even begin to comprehend. Jake will probably give you the grand tour once you get to meet him. Then there's the east wing, which has to do with research on new medicines and old illness. Nothing viral, don't worry. Genetics and Health work together in a lot of projects, from what I've heard, but I don't go much there, though. Chemists are just plain weird."

Kyle was just about to tease Liz about if she was weird, since she was the one who practically loved chemistry, but he just didn't feel like it would be a good idea. Like this whole thing was way too serious, despite the fact that Ray was trying to lighten the mood. Watching a couple of girls entering the cafeteria, laughing at each other's comments, Kyle wondered if he would ever feel comfortable enough to crack a joke about anything stupid in this place.

* * *

"Well, I have to give them the credit for really sorting out our dietary quirks," Maria said while taking Snapples out of the fridge. Though all the apartments were the same size, they had gathered at Maria's, since it was in the middle. Maria started to pass out the beverages, and Max absently took his and opened it. Less than half of his mind had been paying attention to Ray's "tour" around the south wing earlier, while the rest of his thoughts had wandered to a more important matter.

Michael came out of the room, nodding at him in a silent gesture of reassurance that, as far as he could sense, they were bug free.

"You wanted to say something before?" Michael asked him, sitting in one of the living room couches. This wasn't much different from the apartment the two of them had shared less than a year ago. One bedroom, one bathroom, a living room, a kitchen with a pantry. Big enough for one or two persons. It was barely decorated, most of the things seeming brand new. And except for Maria's accurate comment about the contents of the fridge, nothing else in here had anything to do with anything else from their lives. It was, indeed, like moving on to a new apartment.

"I had a flash when I shook Dave's hand," Max said without waiting a second longer. Everyone stopped doing whatever they were doing in mid air. He was sure that if Maria had been drinking when he spoke, she would have spit it all out. The five of them looked at him with expectant looks.

"You know how we've been trying to figure out why he's being so convenient with us," he began, trying to gather his thoughts in order, "well, what I got was a flash of him staring at a picture of all of us and he was worried."

"Worried?" Isabel asked. Max had noticed too that Isabel had been thoughtful ever since they had met Dave earlier that day. Now she seemed just as alert as anybody else in this room.

"Yeah, but… I got the sense that he was really worried about us not accepting it. That it was almost imperative for him to find a way of making us stay. What I didn't get was why. There was this, I don't know, this _need_, I guess, that we should accept."

"That doesn't exactly tell us anything new," Michael said, a little disappointed. "We already know the guy wants us here, and why."

"No, Michael," Liz said turning to him, "we knew that Dave was fine if we didn't accept. That was the whole point about letting us go whenever we want… but if he was really worried about us not accepting, that means he's not at all unconcerned about us leaving…"

"Then he's not letting us go at all!" Maria exploded, knocking her Snapple to the floor, the cream carpet becoming redder by the second.

"I don't… know," Max said, almost having said 'I don't think so', but not really knowing that. "But I didn't get the sense that he wanted to hurt us either. Whatever the reason is for him wanting us here, it has to be for something else, or at least for something more."

"Just perfect…" Michael got up and started pacing. Max followed him with his eyes. The last thing they all needed now was to second guess their decision, especially since they hadn't even been there a whole day… awake, that was.

"But I think he does intend to back up his offer, if only to keep us under his watch." Max said reassuringly, which didn't stop Michael from pacing or the tension in the room to dissipate at all. Still, that was the truth. Max did believe that Dave intended to back up his offer as far as he could. Now he only had to discover _why._

"I don't get it," Maria said picking up the bottle from the floor, "is that good or bad?"

"Right now it's just safe. We are out of reach of anyone else." Max said placing his hand over Liz's, who had put hers over his knee. She was trying to reassure him that whatever the outcome, they had made this decision together. And Max knew that Liz wanted to believe this would all work for the best too. How could both of them be wrong?

"Safe?" Asked Michael finally standing still, a hint of annoyance in his voice. Here he goes, thought Max bracing himself for whatever Michael was going to say, which was probably going to have to do with the fact that he, Michael, hadn't wanted to come here in the first place.

"Safe," Michael repeated looking at him, and then, slightly shaking his head in a disapproving way, started pacing again. "For how long is he going to back it up? But that doesn't even matter, because if he decides that he doesn't want to back it up at all, we won't have much to say about it, uh? Because we are already trapped." He stopped again, and glared at Max. Dave's in a win-win situation, Max thought again lowering his gaze to meet his sister's. Which was almost a mistake, because he could so easily read _what are we going to do, Max? _God, he hated that. When were they going to stop looking at him as if he _knew_ what to do?

"We need a back up plan," Liz spoke before anyone else could even formulate a sentence, her eyes pinned to the red spot in the carpet.

"A back up plan?" Kyle asked. "I thought we had already settled on a 'back up plan' before. You know, powers and all that stuff…" he ended up in a whisper.

"That is to protect ourselves," Liz continued now facing Kyle, and then turning to the rest of the group, "but we need to have something that would matter to him, you know? Like something against him. Just in case he doesn't fulfill his part of the deal."

Michael sat up, clearly intrigued by Liz's train of thought. Max could feel Liz's excitement as she was building her plan. _You've got to have a plan_ was practically tattooed in Liz's mind, and God, he loved her for that.

"Just think about where we are," Liz said, her eyes sparkling, "there most be a million secrets concealed in here, and we have free access to all of them."

"You seriously believe he's got all his dirt right under our noses?" Kyle said skeptically.

"Well, not all that exposed, and it would look suspicious if we just go wandering around in places we shouldn't be but… we are going to be here a long time, and if we look carefully, who knows? Maybe we'll find out a lot more than we think, including a way to secure ourselves and to keep Dave at bay, just in case."

It was risky, Max knew, especially because he didn't think Dave would be thrilled by them lurking into his other projects. Max shivered. He hated to think that the six of them were just a _project_ to someone. A part of him was angry. Angry that someone could know so much about him, about everyone he cared about so much, just because he thought it was interesting, a nice _project_. That part of him wanted Dave to feel exactly what he was feeling right now, deprived and cornered. So scouting for Dave's secrets seemed _fair_.

The other part of him was terrified of what it could mean if they were caught on this. Granted, it hadn't been mentioned in the deal, and like Dave had said, nothing was set in stone, and details were always changeable. Still, he was pretty sure this would be in the 'no' part of the contract, no matter how hard he tried to rationalize it.

Max put his arm around Liz's shoulders, trying to comfort her as much as getting comfort from her.

"So, what exactly would we be looking for?" Michael asked frowning. What exactly would Michael be interested in finding here? Sure, Liz was in heaven, everything had to do with science down here, so she could know what to look for, and with a little help, so could Max and Isabel.

Now, Kyle and Maria… and Michael…

"I guess," Liz said slowly, pretty much thinking what Max was thinking, "we should take an interest in different things…"

"What!" Maria exclaimed, for the second time knocking her Snapple, the carpet gaining yet another red spot. "We have to pick up science crap?"

"He said we could choose," Isabel said finally interceding in the conversation, "so he must know that not all of us are interested in keeping with the boring, complicated stuff. We just have to aim for different things. Cover as much ground as we can."

"Like what?" Michael asked, clearly not only disliking the fact that only science was available, but that he would have to study after all. Max smiled to himself. It wasn't that Michael didn't want to study, it was the fact that he had been told to study in the first place that he was rebelling against.

"Guys, first we have to really know what's in here," Liz said leaning forward, Max's hand sliding to her waist. "Then we'll be able to decide."

"Great," both Michael and Maria grunted at the same time. But it made sense; Ray had only given them a general idea of what the labs were about, but not a specific guide. They were all tired, Ray included, to start questioning about that earlier. In fact, this was supposed to be a quick meeting, because being awake for almost 21 hours –minus the short nap he had taken with Liz- was now really taking its toll.

"Do you think you can shake the guy's hand one more time to be sure we are safe?" Kyle asked with a resigned look.

Max looked at Kyle with a smile that didn't quite reach his eyes. There sure wouldn't be an easier way to discover Dave's plans and secrets than by getting them by flashes… of course, he couldn't really manage getting flashes at will, not even specific flashes for that matter, but… could he perfect that little trick? "I guess I'll be working on it, Kyle."


	7. Dinner

**VII**

**Dinner**

Liz sat on the bed, staring at the telephone by her nightstand. She knew that once she picked it up there was no way she could dial away from this complex, but still, the hope wouldn't die until she actually picked it up and heard for herself.

Max was taking a shower, so she had scouted the length of their apartment to see what there was to find. Ray had just gotten them to the corner of the hall, and saying that he would leave them alone till dinner time around 9:00 p.m., had disappeared just like Dave had done two hours before. Now it was almost 3:30 p.m., and she was feeling all the weariness of the day wash all over her body. Sure, she had taken a nap with Max earlier, but since she had been all tense and stressed out, it hadn't exactly done wonders for her need for rest. Now that she was somewhat calmer, sleepiness was trying to win her over, her body not caring what was worrying her mind.

Still, the phone had made her forget all about her tiredness and think all about the world that was beyond these walls. Who would she call first? Her parents, of course, and then Max's parents, and then Jim, and last Amy. There was no one else she needed to talk to… She blinked once, then twice, her eyes refusing to leave the white object. Dave had said he would arrange the ways for them to talk to their parents, and actually, she needed time to think what else she was going to say after "I love you so much and I miss you with all my heart." Because, come on, granted, she had sent her journal, and they _should_ understand why she had done what she had done, but…

When they had decided to call their parents, it had been against the clock. One minute for each one of them. So, basically, she had said "I'm fine, I love you, I miss you. I might not call again for some time. Bye." She could still remember her mother crying in the background for her father to give her the phone. Oh, he had been beyond mad at Max for taking her away, and at her, for being foolish enough to throw her future away as well.

"_No, Dad, I swear you'll understand—"_

"_When are you coming home? For crying out loud! You are only 19! Do you think—"_

"_Dad! Listen, I'm going to hang up in seven seconds, okay?"_

"_Why!"_

"_Because I love you!"_

Because she loved them. Her journal had been sent that same morning, just a week after her wedding. Gosh, she hadn't even got to tell her parents she had married Max. Except that, assuming her journal had arrived, now they knew… now they knew everything, and she had no idea what they were going to say. Now she wished she would only have one minute to hear all about it and be done with it.

Her eyes went to the side of the phone and stayed on a small yellow book. "Phone guide", it read in black letters. She picked it up and went through its pages at once. There were about 120 labs listed in there, and another 43 non-research phone numbers as well. At the back of the guide was written: "If you wish to call any apartment, press 444 – 0 + the number of the apartment."

The phone rang.

Liz froze.

The second ring brought her out of her shock. Quickly, she left the phone guide at her side and picked up the phone.

"Yeah?"

"Oh! Hi!" A female voice said in the other side of the receiver. "I thought you still weren't home." Liz winced at the word. Well, I'm _not_ home, she absently thought. "I'm Samantha, and I was wondering if you—"

"The analyst?" Liz cut her off. She remembered the name. She had been the one who had been analyzing her engagement ring. Neither Dave nor Ray had said anything about any lab test starting today. Ray had even said that they would meet at dinner time, so—

"Yeah, I work as an analyst. But William and I were wondering if you would like a visit from your neighbors. We know how it feels to be in here and all." Samantha sounded… well, cheerful. Was Samantha –and apparently William- in here because of some sort of deal? Were they supposed to talk about their own deals at all? Liz chewed her lower lip.

"Hello?" Samantha said, thinking Liz wasn't there anymore.

"Um, well, you know, Max and I have just come—"

"Who is it?" Max asked coming out of the bathroom, wearing a pair of gray pants and just a white towel over his shoulders. It isn't fair, Liz thought staring at him, Max already knows what his bare chest does to me. It made all her thoughts collide with each other, to say the least.

"Oh, I understand", Samantha was saying, "we can wait till you are settled down, leave it for another occasion…"

"Hold on a second," Liz put her hand over the speaker. "It's Samantha."

"The analyst?" Max said tensing.

"Apparently, she's not one right this moment. She wants to visit us as in some sort of 'welcome to the neighborhood' thing or something." Max thought for a second.

"Ask her if she can come tomorrow, so we can all gather in here. It can't harm us to have information from other sources, can it?"

"Samantha?"

"Yeah?"

"As I was telling you, we are just coming in, but if you would like to come tomorrow? We'll gather the others so you'll get to meet all of us," Liz said trying very hard to sound as cheerful as Samantha was being. Gosh, how could she manage? And would they even have the time to meet anyone tomorrow? Who knew what Dave or Ray would want then?

"Fabulous. We'll be there then. Oh, and so you know, we are in apartment number 156. Bye."

Hanging on, Liz turned to see Max sitting in the bed, throwing his towel on a nearby chair. She was about to tell him about the phone guide and how that would help them to see what they could choose to study, but she stopped herself before starting. Max looked tired, just like she was feeling. When they had left Maria's apartment half an hour before, the six of them had said what exactly they wanted to do now: Sleep. Michael had stayed with Maria, while Isabel and Kyle had gone to their own apartments. Kyle had said that he couldn't believe he was having his own room for the first time in ages, making Isabel glare at him.

"We should get some sleep," Liz said reaching for him and softly pushed him down. Max didn't resist. Instead, he put his arm around her, so they both were lying in the middle of the bed. In the silence of the room, Liz started to review everything they had done in the past 24 hours, and she started to doubt it all. The fears she had so desperately tried to hush were now getting louder.

"Are we doing the right thing?" Liz asked above a whisper, knowing that Max's voice would make her doubts go quiet for a while.

"If we had let Samantha come now, Michael would have killed us for waking him up, not to mention Maria…"

"You're right…" Liz answered, pretending that that had been the meaning of her question to begin with. Max only did that when he wasn't sure of the answer either. He would just re-direct the question to something else, something that, generally, would make her laugh. It was just that now none of them were laughing…

"God, I love you," Max whispered breaking the silence, while accommodating her so she would fit perfectly beside his body, her head between his chin and his left shoulder. Max held her closer, opening their connection in a total way for the first time since they had passed through the gates of the complex.

He was feeling everything she was feeling ten times worse. In so many ways Max was just human, with as many and as strong feelings as she had, but it was in times like these, when he was really scared, that it hit her for how long Max had been hiding and _what_ he had been hiding too. How long he had been thinking about ending in places like this one or worse, about being separated from his family. Feelings that put everything he had done for her in perspective. He had risked his safety to save her… had risked his heart later on so she could know who he really was. That it was still him and not some monster from outer space. At least Dave didn't seem to think that of Max, and that was what gave her hope that it would work.

"I think we did the right thing," she answered her own question, Max tightening his embrace around her, but his own fears diminishing a little bit.

"I want to believe that so bad," he said quietly, caressing her back in a slow motion, making her feel sleepier by the second. He was closing his side of the connection now, trying to let her fall asleep without any obstacle. The light of the room grew dimmer, and by almost closed eyes she could see Max's right hand aiming at the light controller, one of those that let people chose how intense they wanted the light to be.

"It has its advantages," Liz barely murmured referring to Max's powers, feeling Max's chest move with the sound of quiet laughter.

"Yeah, it does," he replied sounding sleepy himself. Let's just hope, she thought before falling asleep, that when we wake up we'll still be here and not someplace else…

------------------------------------- 

Isabel tossed and turned on her bed, on her perfectly comfortable bed, with her perfectly comfortable pillow… but there was no way on Earth she would just fall asleep. She had too many worries in her head, too many questions to be able to. Every second that passed, she grew more and more impatient, and the desire to talk to someone about what was eating her inside grew deeper too.

She usually had Kyle to wake up in the middle of the night to talk about what was bothering her. Granted, it had only happened three or four times during all their time together, but having Kyle nearby was enough to make her feel calm. Now Kyle had his own room -apartment, really- and she was all alone. Usually she wouldn't mind the commodity and the luxury of privacy, but not this time… Could she just dreamwalk Kyle and be over with it?

But it wasn't Kyle who she needed to talk to right now. As lovely and receptive and… well, Kyle-ness as Kyle was, he didn't really understood what it was to be like her, like _them_. She needed to talk to Max, not only because he was her brother, but because right now she wasn't in the mood to hear Michael complaining about everything. As a matter of fact, she had her own complaining to do. But she had to wait a little bit longer. Give time Max to fall asleep and start dreaming. Otherwise, there wouldn't be any dream to actually walk in…

Max usually fell asleep pretty fast, and started to dream before ten minutes hit. She had learned all about Max's habits of sleeping during that long summer three years ago, when they were trying to not jump at every shadow thinking an unknown enemy was hiding there, waiting to attack them or anyone they cared about. She had learned it in order to help him, because back then Max wouldn't dare to fall asleep knowing what his subconscious was waiting to show him. She had only gotten glimpses of it when she had dreamwalked him to rescue him, so she only had ideas of her own about what Max could have been dreaming of.

That first week after hearing their mother's message had been… disastrous would have been an understatement. Of catastrophic proportions was closer to the truth for all of them, but not quite there. There was just not a word to describe it. With finals, dealing with Valenti, dealing with themselves and their new roles, with Tess still adapting to their group, with Liz avoiding Max and Michael avoiding Maria… she still wasn't sure how she had gotten through it all, Alex having a big part in her conserving her sanity. To the contrary, Max had just shut himself up, had gone through the whole mess almost in automatic, not even bothering to study because that would have required actual thinking, and had pretty much just collapsed in his bed every night. But as the week wore off, so did his defenses.

"_I don't think I can put it off anymore," Max had said in a tired tone that Friday night when every single high school scholar was out partying, celebrating the end of classes. She had gone to his bedroom to finally start discussing what they were going to do for the summer, but instead she had found him sitting in his bed with a white small plastic bottle in his hands. He was reading the label over and over again, almost as if searching for any mistake._

_Isabel recognized it almost immediately. They were their father's sleeping pills that he took when he was too stressed out to conciliate sleep. What was Max thinking? She didn't dare to ask, she didn't let herself go into that train of thought either. Instead, she just stood in the doorway, watching how Max started yet one more time to read the whole thing. He finally turned his face to her, looking way beyond tired and way beyond worried for someone who had just gone through finals. No wonder her parents had started to worry._

"_I really don't think I can go to sleep without seeing… it… all over again—"_

"_Max, maybe I can help you… maybe if I'm in your dream—"_

"_No! I don't want you to see it, okay? It was bad enough that you had to when you were trying to find out where I was, but I don't want you to do it now. There's no reason for you to know it. So, I'm just thinking of taking one of these to see if I can sleep through the night."_

Realization had hit her then. He wasn't thinking about taking the whole bottle, but just one pill. Their dad always said that those pills were miraculous, made him sleep like a rock. The problem was that they didn't know how it would affect them. When they were kids they never got sick, so why bother with trying any kind of medicine, right? And when they had grown up a little bit more, and read a little bit more about biology, a new fear had settled in their minds: What would happen if they had to take medicines? Would it react the same way? So Max reading and reading about the warnings and all that over and over again was to see if somehow he could guess if it was safe or not. But the fear of dreaming overcame the fear of the unknown.

And, oh, it had worked. It had worked so perfectly well that Max had not only slept through all Friday night, but through all Saturday morning and half the afternoon as well. She had tried calling his name and shaking him a little, but nothing so subtle worked. She had been so worried by 3:00 p.m. that she had called Michael.

"_How could he be so irresponsible!" Michael had exploded, the first discussion of that summer about Max's decisions of many, _many,_ to come._

"_You can't blame him for wanting to sleep!" she had defended her brother. Michael had glared at her. Max hadn't wanted to talk about anything that had happened to him, he had kept saying that it was over and that that was enough. But Michael had seen how weak Max had been when he had rescued him. Michael had his own ideas of what had happened to his best friend in there, so he hadn't argued the point. For once._

"_We need to get more help to know what we should do," Isabel had said, sitting by her brother's side. At least sleeping like that he wasn't having any nightmares. _

They would have called Liz to see if she knew anything about this, but the girl had disappeared off the map –they would know days later that she was in Florida- and they were all alone. There was Tess, of course, who they weren't still perfectly comfortable with, and then, there was Valenti… Still, like Michael had answered back, "who the hell is going to know what to do?"

Which had led to the obvious answer: Nasedo. He _had _to know what to do, didn't he? But Nasedo had been gone for six days now, and they weren't even sure of how to contact him. In that early time, he hadn't given them the number to reach him, things at the Special Unit being too chaotic to risk such thing. Not only did he have to impersonate Pierce and avoid all their X-ray scanners, he had to make a believable story as to why he was no longer interested in at least one certified alien. And yet they could try, sure, and Isabel was willing to risk the exposure again if that meant saving her brother's life.

But Max had woken up half an hour later, more tired than rested and with a headache. That hadn't stopped Michael from arguing with him or Isabel from telling him one or two things about worries and risks. It didn't matter; Max already knew he didn't want to keep taking them. This had finally led him that night years ago to ask her for help.

Isabel looked at her watch. Was it only 4:12 in the afternoon? But now sleepiness was finally winning her over. She would take her chance at Max being asleep now. Though it was harder to dreamwalk someone without a picture, it wasn't impossible, especially with Max sleeping in the next apartment to hers.

Back in their summer from hell, it had been the easiest thing to do, to dreamwalk Max, because he was expecting it. Though she couldn't change a thing about his dreams, she could tell him that he was actually dreaming. Because, after all, the worst part of a nightmare is that you don't know it isn't real. It had taken her brother about a month to recognize and change his dreams, to _control_ them, but he had managed. Of course, by the time he had finally stopped having nightmares, their parents were so worried about his behavior that they had set him up with a therapist. It wasn't long before they set _her _up with her own appointments as well. But who could blame them for jumping at every sound and not wanting to go outside and keep arguing about what to do?

Isabel easily slid into the dream plane, and surprisingly, got just as easily into Max's dream as well. He was expecting her, she realized, when the dream version of her brother was sitting in a bench, right in the middle of their favorite playground at the park where they used to play when they were kids. It was just a perfect Sunday morning.

"I thought you might want to talk," he said with a knowing smile, "maybe about Jesse…"

Isabel closed her eyes at the mention of her husband's name. But was Jesse still her husband? Did she still have the right to think about him like that? She sat up by Max's right, the sounds of cars passing by and kids laughing in the distance almost making her forget that they were in a dream. Max's dreams were always so detailed. She had dreamwalked a lot of people, and had encountered a lot of dreams too. People who dreamed in black and white or with such brilliant colors it almost hurt to see. People who never put faces to the persons in their dreams or who never were part of their dreams at all, just like ghosts. But her brother's were the only ones that were so rich in detail of the real world, with sounds and smells and colors. She was almost sure that if he were dreaming that they were in a restaurant, she would be able to taste the food.

Putting a hand on her right shoulder, he pulled her closer to him, embracing her, making her head rest on his shoulder.

"He's okay wherever he is," he said in that quiet way of his that made her believe that he actually _knew_ Jesse was okay. But he didn't know. None of them did.

"I thought that he would be covered too, you know?" she said, barely suppressing a sob. "That somehow Dave would bring it up, something about where Jesse was and how he was going to protect him. I was so certain he would bring Jesse into the deal… I was such a fool." Isabel ended, her own tears feeling so real in this dream world.

"No, you're not. I was expecting it too… but it wasn't my place to ask for him. Why didn't you do it?" Max tentatively asked. Isabel thought for a minute.

"I was about to… but if Dave doesn't know anything about Jesse now, then he must be safe... Dave would have known if the FBI had gotten to him, right?" She asked with fear, second guessing her own thoughts and conclusions, dreading what Max's answer would be.

"I would think so… yeah." Isabel relaxed a little bit. Of course, Max didn't know that _either_, but this time, it didn't bother her at all.

"So I thought that Jesse might just be getting over us, starting a new life. And if I opened my mouth he would be dragged again to our world. How could I do that to him, Max? If he's out there, finally living the life he was supposed to have to, why should I take it away from him again? Just so I could feel safer?"

"You would have done it to keep him safe," Max said, soothing her back.

"Are we doing the right thing Max? Things are turning into such… unexpected ways…" Isabel said straightening herself up, facing her brother.

"I know… it seems impossible that things might actually work for us for the better. It's kind of… kind of believing in miracles I guess… But I have a feeling it's time to try, or we are going to mess up this thing before we can do anything about it." Max paused for two seconds, as if weighing something, deciding whether to tell her something or not. He finally spoke again. "Still, I think Dave knows where Jesse is. It wouldn't make sense if he didn't, since he has taken such… _precautions_ with us. I bet he was expecting you to say something about Jesse too. He would have had that covered."

"You seriously believe that, don't you?" Isabel said with fear, Max's perfect dream day starting to cover up with gray clouds. If it had been a real day, she would have expected rain in less than half an hour.

"Yes. Dave is keeping us here for something else, I just can feel it. The way he said that us staying in here made it easier for him to keep the record of our progress… there's something _wrong_ about that. I don't know what it is yet, but I'm sure it has everything to do with whatever his real motives are." Max concluded frustrated. He had been thinking a lot about it, she was sure.

"If you are so certain that there's more than he's letting us see, why did you accept too? If you had said no, we wouldn't have doubted you, we would have backed you up," she said, confused and a little bit angry too. Why would Max have kept his mouth shut when he knew something was wrong?

"Because like I said to Maria, this is safe." Max said, resigned. "The FBI would have gotten to us sooner or later without Liz's guidance, that is true, but it is also true that while we are here, no one would want to see us dead. This is a shelter, even if a dangerous one, and we need to get in shape. Dave knows that too. Like Ray said, he must have thought about this a lot. Whatever he wants," Max said thinking it through, "he must want it so bad that he's willing to keep his part of the deal if only to keep us here. I bet that even if we break some rules he wouldn't mind."

Max's dream shifted, the temperature dropping, the sounds and the people disappearing. The park was virtually deserted now.

"That's why he's giving us such freedom down here," Max said more to himself than to her, "so there isn't much we can break… God, I wish I knew what he wants!" Max stood up, clearly angry at himself for not being able to figure it out.

"Do you think that it is dangerous?" she asked quietly, not wanting to upset him more, but needing to ask too.

"I don't know. But whatever it is he knows we wouldn't have accepted if we knew… or maybe we wouldn't have accepted for the right reasons… I just don't know. What if we really made a bad decision, Iz? What if we really shouldn't be here? What am I going to do if something happens to any of you?"

Rain started to fall, to pour actually, Max being completely oblivious to that, his eyes fixated on hers, as if she had the answers to that. But she didn't have any; she had actually come to get her own answers. How selfish of her, she thought, but it had been true. And now she was in Max's position, and it wasn't pretty.

"Max, you said it yourself: This is safe, and I believe that too. Even if my main reason was Jesse, everything Dave is offering us is what we need right now. That's why we all accepted. And we are going to figure out why he really wants us here, okay? We'll make that our goal."

As if he were a five year old who had been told to stop crying so he'll get an ice cream, Max simply nodded. "Okay," he said quietly, making himself believe that too. As fast as it had come, the rain just stopped falling, and Isabel wasn't surprised when she found herself dry, the logic of dreams never following the logic of the real world. Isabel stood up, going to her brother and embracing him in a soothing embrace. It was so weird to do that, it was he who always went to her. And for this once, being in Max's positions wasn't a bad thing.

"Just," Max said still in her embrace, "don't tell Michael about my theory about breaking rules, or he'll be more than happy to try it…"

"Deal."

---------------------------------------------

Actually, Michael was having his own theories about breaking rules. He was staring at the ceiling while holding a very asleep Maria beside him. It was 8:49 p.m., so dinner time was getting closer. Still, he didn't want to disturb her, so whatever "dinner" meant, it would have to go without her. There was no way he was going to wake her up when she could perfectly well sleep through the whole night. Tomorrow he would deal with her wrath about not being included, but right now… God, she looked like an angel, even when she was kicking the sheets in her sleep, and occasionally kicking him too. If someone dared to even hint that something would happen to her if he didn't cooperate…

Would they do that? Would Dave or Ray or whoever this Jake was do that? Just break the contract? What were they going to do then? Sue? He knew perfectly well there was no real way out of this, and yet, here they were. Michael could feel his own energy building up inside him, his frustration threatening to let his powers go and have some fun. His self control had to do wonders to keep him in check, because it was one thing to break things, and a whole different thing to put them together… He needed to calm down.

They –the aliens- had never really needed to sleep all that much to begin with, so he was now wide awake, trying to not drown himself in misery and frustration about being stuck in here. Which was a very hard thing to do, especially since he was an expert on seeing the dark side of things. But he had to try. They all feared the worst now with Max's revelation earlier about Dave not really wanting them to go, and if he had learned one thing on the road it was that panic, just like fear, was a contagious thing, a very bad contagious thing, and if you added frustration and anger and pointing fingers, you wouldn't get anything done at all. So, for the sake of the group, he needed to stay calm.

His eyes left the ceiling and stared at the picture that was hanging on the front wall. He hated it. It was about a bed of flowers losing their petals to the wind. He hoped that whatever was in his own apartment had nothing to do with flowers or something cheesy like that. Still, he kept staring at it. There was something odd with the frame. Even if the lights were completely off, the ceiling gave a certain light, a clarity to the room, almost as if there were moonlight rays entering. It was an eerie effect, but it was so dim that it didn't bother you to sleep. Still, in that almost non-existent light, Michael was trying to decipher what was wrong with the frame. Because he had seen something like that before, hadn't he?

Realization hit him, but he couldn't believe it at first. Was it one of those two inches flat plasma TV's? Because if it was, then he would be able to turn it on, right? Michael slowly raised his hand, expectation building inside of him. Did they have satellite too? Maybe this place wasn't going to be as bad as he thought…

A low knock on the front door ended his little experiment. Glancing at his watch he guessed it was Ray calling for dinner, and seriously, this schedule thing wasn't working for him. The knock repeated, and Michael glanced at Maria. Nope, he wasn't going to wake her up. So he slowly disentangled himself from her, Maria not even registering that he was moving, and giving an evil glare to the –hopefully- two inches flat plasma TV, left the room.

He got to the front door before whoever was outside knocked by the third time. Didn't they have door bells, now that he was thinking about it? Like he had paid all that much attention to begin with… He opened the door, and was surprised when he found Max standing there, wearing a t-shirt, pants and his favorite sneakers. Clearly, his clothes had been waiting in his apartment, just as Maria's had been in here. Michael hadn't checked his apartment yet, but sure enough, he knew his belongings would be there. The two boys stared at each other for two seconds. The weird thing being that Max was alone and not with Liz.

"I didn't want to wake up Maria," Max said before Michael could jump to any conclusions, as a way of explaining why he had knocked instead of using the door bell. Stepping outside, Michael just nodded. Closing the door behind him, he glanced to the corridor, his eyes lingering a moment on the camera that he couldn't see but that Ray had said was there earlier. He hated knowing he was being watched.

"Let's go to my apartment," Michael said starting to go to his left, assuming Max wanted to talk to him alone. Kyle, Maria and Michael's apartments were all in a row, while Max and Isabel's were in front of them. They were the only five apartments in the whole corridor. Every single corridor they had passed to get here had been the same.

"Actually," Max said turning to Michael's right, "we are going to Isabel's. We are having dinner there."

"What? Why? Aren't we supposed to meet with Ray for that?"

"He actually came here. He brought pizza too. He's there now," Max replied frowning a little, like the idea of Ray bringing pizza was somehow… odd. Which it certainly was.

"I don't like that we have to do whatever he wants," Michael said under his breath, changing his direction.

"I know," was Max's flat answer before they reached apartment # 136. When he entered, it surprised him that, aside from Isabel and Ray, there wasn't anyone else in there.

"Didn't want to wake up Liz?" he asked Max while Ray and Isabel both came out of the kitchen, she bringing some napkins and he bringing some sodas.

"No, and she's going to hate me for that tomorrow…" Michael just gave him an I-know-your-pain look before meeting with Ray. While the three men in the room where dressed pretty much in the same way –except that Ray was wearing a jacket- Isabel had clearly put more attention to what she was wearing: jeans and a gray sweater. How did she manage to look so… 'well dressed' just with that? There was never something off with whatever she was wearing… something Maria had complained a lot while on the road. Something he couldn't believe he was actually noticing now.

"I'm glad you could come," the older man said balancing the sodas to shake Michael's hand. If Max had been lucky enough to get a good flash earlier, Michael wasn't going to waste any opportunities of getting one himself. So he shook Ray's hand without hesitating. Rays' handshake was firm and short and, unfortunately, it didn't give him any flashes.

"Yeah… I thought we were going to the cafeteria. Isn't it open like you said?"

"Sure it is, but you barely got, what? Five hours of sleep? I thought about not coming at all, but since I had said I would, I thought I should bring dinner for you. I was surprised to find Max and Isabel already waiting for me."

Michael turned to look at Max, a hurt expression in his eyes. They had met Ray _without_ him?

"We were just about to get you," Isabel said with a firm tone, not letting him doubt that it wasn't the truth. "I went to Max first and he was telling me that he wasn't going to wake up Liz when Ray crossed the corner."

Silence fell in the room, clearly the exchange of doubts and explanations in front of Ray making them uncomfortable.

"What kind of pizza did you bring?" Isabel jumped in, sounding a little bit too rushed, but Ray went for it, making the awkward moment go away.

"Well, I didn't know what to bring, so I brought just about everything I could," Ray said showing the three huge boxes that were waiting on the table in the middle of the living room. Michael was about to tell him that it was weird that he didn't already know their tastes in pizza, but let it pass. He had to play diplomatic if he wanted to get some answers, right? God, this was going to be one long evening…

"You really thought we were going to eat that much?" Isabel asked while sitting on the larger sofa, wincing her nose. Clearly, the girl had never seen Michael and his shift devouring one of these babies. Three pizzas like those would barely be enough for them. The three men followed her example and sat as well.

"You can always save it for breakfast," Ray said opening the first box, which apparently was half vegetarian, half Hawaiian.

"Men," Isabel said passing the cherry Cokes.

"And," Ray said reaching into one of the inner pockets of his jacket, "a guy at the gym told me he still had a bottle of Tabasco," he said with a smile, placing the half full jumbo size bottle on the table. Except that none of them smiled back. Michael just wanted to explode the damn thing as a statement of how much he hated them for knowing all those details and keep rubbing them in their faces. Ray noticed too, because leaning backward in his place he let his smile go as well. Instead, he sighed.

"Listen," he said in a serious way now, "I know you are all thinking what the hell are you doing here and that it isn't fair that we know so much about you. I was beyond mad when Dave approached me the first time too. But you accepted the deal and now we are all stuck in here with each other. I'm not your guard and I'm certainly not your baby sitter, but I do need that we start to build some trust or we are going to go nowhere." He paused, looking at each one of them in the eye, trying to make it sink in to them.

"Don't you think I'm scared too?" Ray asked, this time leaning forward, the three of them stared at him with surprise. "You are afraid of what we are going to do to you, but it goes both ways, you know? You could kill with a touch. Hell, you could kill me without even touching me. And I bet you can do worse things than that, but I have to trust that you won't. So I'm going to stop being Mr. Nice Guy if this isn't working for you, but you have to say what you want or you are not going to get it otherwise."

"We want more answers," Max said in the same serious tone, leaning forward as well, clearly not going to let the opportunity go.

Ray's eyes held doubt for two seconds. He certainly didn't like to be in this position, but it felt good that for once they weren't the ones being interrogated. "I'll tell you whatever I know if that's going to calm you down, but I'm sure most of those questions are for Dave to answer."

"Where is he?" Michael asked narrowing his eyes. This was about to get interesting.

"Sleeping, I guess." Ray replied shrugging, like whatever Dave was doing was not important to him, and shouldn't be important to them.

"Where was he earlier?" Isabel asked, her Cherry Coke completely forgotten in her hand.

"With Jake. Jake had an allergic reaction this morning, that's why he couldn't come. Jake and Dave have been friends since forever, so he had to check on him. By the time he was free you were already sleeping. There's no big mystery about what Dave does, you know?"

Yeah, right… Michael was sure both Max and Isabel were thinking exactly the same thing.

"What _does_ he do?" Max asked, his expression firm, his body tense. "He said he travels a lot and has all these places, but what exactly does he do? Where do the resources to keep all this come from? Research?"

Ray seemed to doubt this one for a second, clearly not sure if he should answer or not. He glanced at them, almost as if deciding that, if he wanted trust, he needed to give a little too. The thing that Ray didn't know was that, no matter how hard he tried, none of them would actually trust him. They couldn't afford to.

"In part, but not really. Those are his projects, you can say. What Dave really does is to get information and sell it later on; all kind of information, from all kind of sources. He also uses it as he sees fit."

"Blackmail?" Isabel elaborated.

"Sure, why not? To intimidate, to get favors, to keep people where he wants them to be. Just about anything you can think of."

"So he has some sort of spy agency?" Max said, a little confused.

"No, he's the intermediary between the spies and whoever they work for. Do you have any idea how hard it is to pass information from one point to the other? Most of the work he does is just that, doing that particular service. There's no more lucrative value than information. And you know what they say about information: It's power. That's why he researches as well… it's kind of a circle, I guess. Projects create information as well."

"And now we are his next project," Max said as a matter of fact. Michael knew that his friend was barely holding in check, his whole body tense, sending angry vibes impossible to miss.

"I don't know if he would call you that," Ray said reaching for a piece of pizza. Maybe that lonely hot dog from lunch hadn't been enough, Michael absently thought.

"What would he call us?" Isabel said, still forgetting that she was holding a can in her hands, the thing just seconds from dropping to the floor.

"I don't know," Ray said truthfully. "But he went through a lot of trouble to get you here, that much I can tell you. Still, ultimately, it was your decision to stay that made you stay. Don't ever forget that."

Like they could. But it wasn't that simple either. Dave had manipulated them into accepting, with his big offer and his plans for their future. What the hell did Dave know about what they wanted to do with their future? Michael wasn't even sure himself. He had never really thought about a future on Earth when he was a kid, and by the time he had found out that he was staying, didn't give a damn about it either.

"That's the reason why you are here too? You accepted an offer?" Michael ventured to ask. Getting to know Ray was something that they should add to the list of "things to know".

"It started like that, yeah. My contract is indefinite like yours, but even if it wasn't, I'd stay. Being around Dave has taught me a lot of interesting things."

Like aliens? Michael bitterly thought. What could Ray have that Dave had offered him an indefinite contract as well? He didn't think that Ray would tell them even if they asked it, though.

"What do _you_ do in here, anyway?" Michael asked, deciding that was a better question. He had the feeling this Q. and A. wasn't going to last long.

"Now, that's a good question," Ray said with half a smile. "My main job was to look after you, to know where you were, as Dave said. But now that you are here, things changed. Even though I still have to keep you safe, I'm more like a representative of Dave's deal. While he's absent, you can turn to me. I have to make sure that Dave's part of the deal is carried on properly. And that you are carrying yours properly as well."

So that was why Ray was trying so hard to be Mr. Nice Guy, as he had said earlier. Dave wasn't going to be around, but he had made sure they weren't going to be left unguarded or unwatched. How thoughtful of him.

"Is he going to keep it?" Isabel asked, not quite looking Ray in the eye. "Is he really going to keep his side of the deal?"

Ray reached for a Cherry Coke and in one movement opened the can, making Michael wonder if he not being able to open his Pepsi earlier that day had been just an act.

"I'm going to tell you this once and I hope it will sink in on you: I've never even _heard_ of Dave breaking a deal, and he will do whatever he can to keep his side of the contract. That's how his business works, his credibility and the way other people know his word is worth it. But what I have indeed seen is people breaking _their_ side of the deal, and it isn't pretty. If you betray him, he'll make sure you pay for it. You think he's being convenient? Hope that you never have to see him being _in_convenient."

"So, he kills whoever wants to get out?" Michael said, not sure whether to believe Ray's words were true. He could be just trying to scare them into being nice little guinea pigs. And that word, _convenient_, was it just a coincidence, or had Ray somehow listened to their conversation in the cafeteria?

"That's not what I said," Ray turned his dark eyes to him. "If you want to end the deal, you can do so. That's part of the contract. But you have to say so, don't go and do anything behind Dave's back. He just doesn't tolerate being betrayed. And trust me, Dave thinks that death is not a punishment at all. Now, if you want to know more about him, you'll have to ask him yourselves. He's set up individual meetings with you all this week, and since he's leaving in exactly seven days, he expects you to keep with the schedule. Because tomorrow is Sunday, he said you should rest, get to know your surroundings."

"What are we supposed to do? Walk around?" Isabel asked a little bit irritated.

"It's your Sunday, you do whatever you want. You have free pass, you have all day."

"Samantha called to see if she could come. She and someone named William, I think. Liz and I told her to come tomorrow to meet all of us." Max said turning to Michael and Isabel, as if not knowing if he had done the right thing.

"The analyst?" Isabel asked frowning. The three of them turned as one to see Ray, who was now half through his slice of pizza. The man was hungry. Putting the half slice down, and wiping his hands on a napkin, he cleared his throat.

"You'll love Samantha. Everyone loves Samantha." Ray said not really caring about that. "Just make sure you have your story straight up before you start spreading it around. Anyway, the meetings." Reaching into his other inner pocket, he took out a paper sheet, neatly fold. "Here are your times and meeting places for next week. My number and Dave's are at the bottom if you have any more… questions," he said while handling it to Isabel, who just took it. She stared at it, not saying nor doing anything. Ray kept talking; Michael and Max were fixated as well with the white paper sheet that Isabel was not letting them see.

"You are good kids, that much I know about you. But you think Dave is hiding something from you," the three of them forgot all about the schedule and put all their attention to the man speaking, "and he probably is, but he must have his reasons. The guy is a genius, has this… I don't know, this 'view' of things wider than most people. And if keeping you safe is part of the offer, he'll make sure you stay safe."

He stood up and took the second pizza box into his hands. "I think you have a lot to talk about," he said as a means of ending their conversation, and without any other word, he let himself out of Isabel's apartment. It didn't pass even two seconds before they had forgotten all about Ray and had returned to see what the schedule was all about. Isabel quickly unfolded it, her hands slightly shaking. Max and Michael positioned themselves at both her sides to read over her shoulder.

"We are going to the lab on Monday," she said in a flat tone, for the first time Michael feeling cold inside, a shudder running all over his spine, paralyzing him. Who would guess that eight words could have such an effect on him?

------------------------------------------------

_TBC…_

Author's note: The line that says "It's kind of… kind of believing in miracles I guess… But I have a feeling it's time to try," is from the song "You Make Loving Fun" by Fleetwood Mac from their album _Rumours. _


	8. Neighbors

Thanks for coming back to read! And thanks a TON for the reviews!

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**VIII**

**Neighbors**

Kyle was serving himself some very sweet, very colorful cereal into a white bowl –and there was a feeling of emptiness, he guessed, with the fact that almost everything in there was white- when he heard the doorbell rang. At 7:32 in the morning, there weren't many candidates as to who it could be. Certainly not Michael, nor Maria. Isabel liked to sleep late too, so… Max or Liz? He was the wake-up-early guy of the group; it helped him to meditate when no one was around to disrupt the energy around him. He crossed the kitchen and went to the door, ready to exclaim something about the advantages of waking up with dawn, when he froze in place. What if it was someone else?

The doorbell rang again, but it didn't make Kyle move any faster. Well, if it _was_ someone else, he would deal with him or her. They were protected, after all, right? And he was supposed to move around freely, right? Kyle put the hand on the handle and, taking a deep breath –in a perfect imitation of his father, though he wasn't aware of that- he opened the door.

A tall, thin, slightly older and very pale guy was standing there, his hand in midair ready to ring the bell for a third time. His sparkling green eyes met with Kyle's brown ones, and Kyle had the very distinctive feeling that this guy, whoever he was, was the kind of person who would disrupt the energy of whatever place he was in. It seemed like being standing still was taking a lot of his self control too.

"Hey!" the stranger exclaimed, changing the tool box he was carrying to his other hand, so he could shake Kyle's. "I'm Jeremy. I'm here to repair your phone. It isn't working properly."

Kyle blinked once. He _had_ seen a phone, hadn't he? He remembered stumbling across the room yesterday, not bothering with the lights, and just hitting the bed. He hadn't woken up till 6:55 this morning, figuring he had missed the whole dinner business, and had been rummaging around the kitchen to see what was there for breakfast. He was still wearing yesterday's clothes, for crying out loud, but he couldn't really picture any phone anywhere in his apartment. Still, if this guy said there actually was a phone in his place, who was he to say 'no'?

"Sure, come in. I'm Kyle," Kyle said, shaking Jeremy's hand and letting him in. Jeremy was wearing a long gray T-shirt that said "Hackers are the true rulers of the world", wore out blue jeans and black and white sneakers. His hair looked like it hadn't seen a comb in a week or more. It reminded Kyle of the time long ago when Michael let it just be wild, except that Jeremy's didn't defied gravity as his friend's once did.

"So…" Kyle began while watching Jeremy enter his bedroom. He grabbed his breakfast from the counter and followed. "You are the maintenance guy?"

"What?" Jeremy stopped in midair and turned to look at Kyle with a hurt expression. "Of course not! I'm the Network Keeper." He said in a very serious tone. Kyle just stared at him.

"The what?"

This time, Jeremy smiled, "I guess I _am_ the maintenance guy. I keep the virtual network working, and since phones are part of the network," he said sitting in Kyle's bed and grabbing the white phone by the night stand, "I'm responsible for them working properly."

"Oh," Kyle said leaning over the closet door, holding his breakfast. After two seconds, he had to ask: "What virtual network?"

Jeremy was searching something in his tool box and, finding it, turned to see Kyle. "The one that controls all communication devices. You know, like phones, and the satellite, and the inner e-mail service, among other things…" He turned and with something that looked like a metal detector, he started inspecting the phone.

Kyle kept eating while watching Jeremy finish searching his phone. Even though he hadn't really understood what the heck the maintenance guy was talking about, he decided to let him do his work in peace. He would ask later. Apparently satisfied after five minutes had passed, Jeremy put his tool inside the box and stood up. "Done. The number was just not registered, so I added it to the network. It happens all the time with the never used apartments."

"You mean this place is brand new?" Kyle said getting out of his room, with Jeremy at his heels.

"Brand new? Not exactly, but as far as I know, no one has lived here before… That's why the number wasn't in the network. It would have been a waste of bytes."

So, their apartments weren't ready? That was interesting to know, especially since Dave looked like the kind of guy who would have nailed every single detail down.

"You are going to my friends' apartments now?" Kyle asked leaning now with his right elbow over the kitchen counter, almost done with his breakfast.

"No. At least something there isn't working? Is anything else not working in here?" Jeremy asked with a little bit of… hopefulness? Kyle stopped eating. Anything else? Like he had the time to even _see_ what everything else there was…

"Well, not that I know of… I mean, the fridge is working fine… "

"I'm not referring to that. I meant anything _network_ related." He said a little bit exasperated.

"You tell me. What else is there in here network related?" Kyle knew he had said something wrong by Jeremy's expression of total disbelief and… indignation?

"You _don't_ know what else is network related?"

Um, you see, my friends and I have just been thrown into this place, and we really don't have any idea of what to expect… so, if you just stop with the stupid questions… He couldn't say that, now, could he? Instead, he just shook his head.

"Everything is network related. You just have to habilitate it, of course." Jeremy left his tool box in the floor and went to the painting in the furthest wall of the leaving room. Except that it wasn't a painting, as he saw Jeremy touching it and the screen –which was what it really was- came to life. Kyle almost dropped his bowl.

"The main control is at your bedroom, of course, I'm surprised you didn't notice the plasma screen. And how could you miss the inner compartment under it with the keyboard?" Jeremy was saying, talking to the wall, while pressing plasma buttons with practice ease. A map of Kyle's apartment came to view.

"Now, not many know this, but you can actually activate a lot of functions with voice. Like lights and temperature and that kind of stuff. E-mails usually arrived at the bedroom screen, but you can also configure them to appear on any screen."

"Any screen?" Kyle asked moving closer to see what the hell Jeremy was doing.

"Yeah, bedroom, leaving room, kitchen and your G.E.S." Kyle was hating it, but he had to add a question mark to everything that was leaving his mouth.

"G.E.S.?" He asked while turning to the kitchen to see where the hell the plasma screen in there was.

"You don't—you haven't seen yours, yet? Who the hell brought you here? How were you supposed to get anywhere without it?"

"We had a tour…" Kyle said still not seeing where the kitchen screen was. "I guess Ray or Dave would have come later on to tell us…" When Jeremy didn't say a thing about it, Kyle finally turned around to see why. Jeremy was open mouthed, with big blank eyes staring into space.

"I knew…" he whispered entirely to himself and not for anyone else, "I knew he had to be here… I mean, even if it is his birthday and—" Jeremy stopped in mid sentence. "You know Dave? I mean, you have actually _seen_ him?"

"Sure… why, shouldn't I? We made a deal just yesterday…"

"Really? You actually, like, shook hands with _him_?" The technician asked in amazement, making Kyle feel nervous. Was he saying too much or something he shouldn't be saying at all? But then again, Dave would have said so, wouldn't he?

"Yes. He's here, or at least _was_ here. Why? And why you don't know him?"

"Barely anyone knows him in a 'shake hands' bases. He's always too secretive. 82 of the people who had claimed they had met him, differ completely on his description. The man is a shadow. The other 18 is either too afraid or too close to him to actually give his description. And now you are telling me he's here, just wandering around? Are you sure it was really _him_?"

Kyle opened his mouth just to shut it up again. Was he sure it was _him_? Was it someone talking in Dave's name? Had they made a deal with a man who had never really shown up at all? A phone rang, a _cell_ phone, and when Jeremy didn't react at all, Kyle suspected that the man in front of him wasn't aware of anything but whatever Kyle could tell him about Dave.

"Shouldn't you answer?" Kyle changed the subject, making Jeremy react at the sound of his own phone.

"Yeah?" He answered in a annoy tone, turning his back to Kyle. But Kyle was grateful that now he had a minute to think. Actually, he wished he could go to the others and tell them this unexpected turn of events. They knew exactly how Dave looked like; wouldn't that be sort of what they were looking for? Certainly, Dave did care a lot about who saw him and who didn't. That was, of course, assuming they had met the real Dave…

"Now!" Jeremy almost shouted to whoever was in the other side of the line. Whatever the answer had been, he hadn't liked it, because he had just hung up without another word. "We'll continue this later," he said in a matter of fact voice and, taking his tool box, left Kyle standing alone in his living room.

It took Kyle about a minute to process what had just happened and what he had to do. Well, early or not, the rest of his merry group would have to wake up now. This was important news.

---------------------------------

Maria kept pushing plasma buttons, watching how screen after screen appeared and disappeared in front of her eyes. When Kyle had arrived an hour ago, daring to wake her _and_ Michael up, she had been ready to bite his head off. That was, of course, until she had found out that Michael hadn't woken her up for their supposed dinner last night. By that time, Space Boy had covered his bases by having Max, Isabel and Kyle as a shield. Liz had been right beside her, ready to bite Max's head off too.

But then all their attention had drifted to Kyle's reckoning of his breakfast events, showing them that the big paintings at the bedrooms and leaving rooms were actually screens. The screen in the kitchen was actually on the fridge's door, perfectly concealed by matching the screen color with the door's color.

"I thought they were TV's," Michael said approaching her, watching the screens go back and forth as Maria was exploring the menu. Maria just glared at him, and when Michael actually raised his hand and pressed a TV shaped icon, she changed her glare for a scowl. The fact that the first channel that entered was a hockey game didn't exactly do wonders for her appreciation of Michael's exploring techniques. She turned it off immediately, the screen now looking like the painting it really wasn't.

Michael was just about to argue when he thought better of it. Maria just turned around without saying a word, and sat flatly beside Liz's left side in one of her sofas. Actually, it was extremely weird to think of anything in here as _hers._ God knew she hadn't owned anything but the clothes she had carried around in the past seven months.

"Anyway," Kyle finished his story after Maria had been done with exploring the plasma screen while all of them had stared at it with amazement and suspicion. "I guess that was why Dave told us he didn't like people knowing he's around."

"Yeah, it would make sense," Max said, thoughtfully.

Kyle nodded at Max's words, and then he said out of the blue, "Does anyone know what the hell a G.E.S. is?"

As one, they all turned to see Liz. It was a long learned habit, Maria thought, because she and Alex used to do it since the fifth grade. Liz was like this human encyclopedia or something, and certainly, the three aliens of their group with Kyle had learned the trick too. Liz looked annoy.

"I don't know what a G.E.S. is. You guys, I'm just as lost as you are." As one, again, they all turned to look at anywhere but Liz. Max, who had been standing next to Isabel, walked over to sit beside his wife. He was just about to put an arm around her shoulder, when Liz glared at him.

"I'm still mad at you." She said in a threatening tone.

Max kept his arm to himself and sighed in a resign way. Now that Maria was really paying attention to all of them, she noticed the distinctive differences in the group. These were three very tired looking half aliens. While Liz, Kyle and Maria had slept through all the night, the other part of their group hadn't been that lucky. It was obvious they had just tossed and turned around all night, and their mood wasn't exactly cheering either. Liz must have noticed too, because her features softened immediately.

"What happened? What did Ray say?" Liz asked looking first at Max, and then to Isabel and Michael. Though she was still angry that Max hadn't waken her up last night, now was the time to hear what the three of them hadn't said since they had all gathered in here. After that, they could decide what to do with Kyle's information about Dave's apparent need of anonymity.

Silence filled the room, and when Maria saw Michael trying to decide if he should approach her, clearly seeking for her comfort, she just knew it wasn't going to be something good.

"He gave us schedules," Isabel finally said, sitting in the one person sofa. Kyle sat next to her in the sofa arm.

"What kind of schedules?" Maria asked with concerned. If the three of them were with such doomed eyes, it couldn't be good, at all. Michael sat at her left, not even daring to reach out with his arm like Max had tried with Liz. Space Boy certainly knew better than that.

Isabel unfolded the little white paper square, which had clearly been fold and unfold more times than Max's sister would like to admit. She handled it to Kyle, who opened his eyes wide as plates as he started reading it.

"You are complaining!" Kyle said, clearly not liking whatever the schedule was. Maria felt Michael tensed at her side, and by some miracle she actually felt him, as in really felt him inside her, just for a second, only getting a glimmer of fear.

"What the hell does that schedule say," she said standing up and snatching the sheet out of Kyle's hand.

It was, indeed, their schedule for mornings and afternoons for the whole week, till next Sunday. Now she understood the pod squad's apprehension about the damn thing. All mornings, from Monday till Friday, they were scheduled to go to the _Lab_. She herself felt going cold, no wonder Michael was feeling fear. Liz stood up to see for herself what everybody else in the room already knew.

"Why aren't we going to the Lab?" Liz asked frowning while returning to her seat. Liz, Maria and Kyle were scheduled to meet Ray at the gym. The afternoons were numbered with distinctive areas all over the complex. Apparently, they were all supposed to meet a lot of people for the next six days.

The only other variant of the schedule was their meetings with Dave. That was what Kyle was complaining about. He was the first one to go one on one with their deal maker. They were all interspersed throughout the week: Kyle, Michael, Liz, Isabel, Maria and finally Max. Gee, what a wonderful way to spend her birthday. The meetings were scheduled to last all morning, though. They would have time to discuss and rearrange anything that needed correction before the other one in turn had to answer to Dave. That was somewhat a relief. Still, Liz's question hung in the air.

"What?" Max said confused, turning to look at her, "why would you want to go to the Lab?"

"Because you are going there and I'm going wherever you go, that's why." She said in a serious voice, as if there were no reasons at all for her to not do exactly as she wanted.

"No, you're not." Max firmly answered her.

The two soul mates stared at each other, neither of them wanting to give an inch. No wonder everyone said they both were stubborn, but it was a rare event to see them being stubborn at each other. They usually were in the same frequency or whatever. Silence filled the room while everyone stared at them.

"We are going there because that's our part of the deal. We have to keep it." Max said turning to look at Michael and Isabel, who clearly didn't want to take side on this.

"I didn't see anywhere saying that we couldn't be there," Liz said, now looking for backup from Kyle and Maria, who didn't want to take sides either. Even if this was one tiny little fight of wills between these two, Maria knew how big and scary a real fight could turn into between Max and Liz, and how the rest of the group could be torn apart by that as well. However, whatever the outcome of this quarrel was going to be, it couldn't be a bad one. This was about keeping each other safe. If anything, it was going to be interesting to watch.

Kyle must have been thinking the same thing because, once Max and Liz locked into each other's eyes again, he mimicked as if he were eating popcorns, enjoying the show.

"We have to do this on our own, Liz," Max finally said in a soothing tone. "We can't show them… that we are so scared we can't even go anywhere without everyone. We are going to go there and do whatever they want and then return to you. But I cannot be there with you there too. It would be too much." Max ended in a whisper. Liz's eyes melted with Max's emotion, so she hugged him back. Maria's anger towards Michael melted as well. Michael must be just as scared as Max is, she thought as she walked over to Michael, taking her former seat, letting him hugged her as well.

"You feel the same way too?" She quietly asked him. Michael simply nodded over her head. God, tomorrow was going to be the worst Monday in history, and they were barely beginning their Sunday.

----------------------------------

And it was going to be a very long Sunday, Max thought as he helped Liz placing the snacks over the living room table. They were expecting Samantha and William and the rest of their group, and Liz had suddenly decided that they needed snacks. She had this sudden… _pride_ about being the perfect hostess, this cheerfulness that was so contagious, Max couldn't refuse... or really understand.

"_You should have heard her, Max," Liz had said when they were eating their lunch. Pizza left over courtesy of Ray. "She sounded so cheerful. I bet she's just expecting to see a happy couple or something."_

_He had raised one eyebrow. "Aren't we a happy couple, then?"_

_Liz had smiled shyly. "Well, I know this isn't a real home or whatever, and that we are doing this to get more information and all that, but… this is the first time we sort of have guests… it kind of puts things in perspective, you know…"_

Max had known, had understood perfectly. Liz had meant they should act like a normal couple, with snacks and sodas and everything for their guests. It was true, too. They were going to meet their first guests outside their group and in a formal living space as a married couple. Still, it hadn't look like it was a practical thing for Liz, but something more personal.

While he was placing the second plate with the sweet snacks on them, Max paused a second while contemplating his wedding ring. He was really married with Liz Parker, and that made his heart sing with pure joy. No matter how bizarre the circumstances, or whatever was going to happen next Monday, right now he just enjoyed of the knowledge of being in an apartment, getting ready to receive people, to present Liz as his wife, or to be introduced by Liz as her husband.

The thought almost made him glow with pride, literally. For one blissful instant he let go of all his worries. He heard Liz entering the living room to check the last details before heading to the bedroom to change, so he turned around and in a fluent movement he caught her halfway through. Liz never saw him coming, but was fully expecting his kiss. She returned it with passion, making Max wonder how he had been able to live through the whole day without Liz's sweet lips. She had been mad at him the whole morning, and had somehow let her anger passed by lunch time, finally having a civilized conversation by then, but that hadn't meant she would allow him even a touch.

Now that they were in their own world, he could feel Liz thinking the same thing he was: How could she have lived without his touch?

"Have I told you how much I love you?" Max asked her, finally taking some air, their foreheads together, his fears threatening to intrude again.

"Not right this moment," she responded smiling, taking her the initiative to kiss him this time. He didn't resist either. The only good part about "fighting", Max thought, was to make peace. He wondered if that was the reason why Michael and Maria fought all the time. Because he had to admit he could get used to this wonderful feeling of togetherness after being not all that close for a whole day. And speaking of being _together_…

Liz sensed his train of thought immediately, probably in part because her own train wasn't too far away from Max's, but she was way too excited about the afternoon's events to fall for Max's wonderful kisses. At least not until said event had passed.

"I really have to change," she said breathlessly, her hands caressing the back of his neck, her eyes closed. Max could stay in this moment forever, contemplating her perfect features, listening to her heart beating at the same rate his own heart was. He didn't answer her, neither let her go. He just stood there, holding Liz close, not intending in ending this perfect moment at all.

A knock in the door shattered the illusion of them not being part of the mortal world, and still they both hold on to that perfect moment just one more second. Liz finally disentangled herself from Max's embrace.

"You get that, I'll change." Even then Max reluctantly let her hand go, and waited till she had disappeared into their bedroom to go and open the door.

Because it had been a knock and not a doorbell, both Max and Liz thought it was going to be one of their group, since it had almost been like a silent agreement that that was how they were going to identify each other from the other 500 people or so of the complex. So, when Max opened the door with all the confidence in the world, he was taken aback when it was Ray who stood in front of the door, carefully balancing half dozen boxes in both arms. Clearly, he hadn't been able to reach the doorbell.

"Sorry to interrupt," the older man said, "but the G.E.S.'s were ready till now."

Max stood in the door still watching Ray carrying the boxes, trying to figure out by that what exactly a G.E.S. was. After ten seconds had passed by, Ray finally asked, "Is this a bad moment? I can come later…"

Snapping out of it, Max moved aside to let Ray in, the ever present sense of caution coming over him, as it always did in presence of Ray or Dave.

"No, of course not. Come in. We were sort of wondering what a G.E.S. was, actually…" Max said closing the door, trying to start a casual conversation, and when he turned around he found Ray facing him, the boxes still in his hands, and a confused and suspicious look on his face.

"Where did you hear about the G.E.S.'s?"

Liz was coming out into the living room by then, and she too froze in place when instead of one of her friends she met with Ray. Her face changed from surprise to control in two seconds, and squaring her shoulders she walked to stand by Max's side.

"I thought we were going to meet you tomorrow," Liz said curtly, and Max knew that the tone was meant more to himself than for Ray. That she was still somehow mad and was taking it on the older man. He would never let her sleep through a meeting in his entire life, Max decided right that moment.

But Ray didn't seem to notice, or care, about Liz's tone of voice. He simply carried on.

"Yes, we are. Where did you hear about the G.E.S.'s?" he asked again in a very serious voice.

"Kyle told us," Liz said frowning herself, not really understanding Ray's urgency about knowing this. "A guy named Jeremy told him this morning. He stopped by Kyle's apartment to fix the phone… something about connecting it to the virtual network…" Liz finished turning to look at Max, seeking his back up to her words. They both returned their gazes to Ray. This time, he seemed more relaxed, though.

"That boy… he's been trouble since he's here," Ray said in a good nature tone, finally putting the boxes over one of the couches, apparently no longer worried about why they knew about the G.E.S's. "'Network Keepers' are always like that, everywhere in the world. I don't know why Dave finds it so funny, though. Anyway, I was supposed to give these to you yesterday, but they weren't ready. I too was supposed to tell you about them, but since our little meeting went a little out of the way, I completely forgot. I hope you didn't get lost today?" Ray asked with a little shame, Max noticed, as if forgetting to bring the G.E.S.'s –whatever those were- before was something to be ashamed of.

"We didn't go anywhere today," Liz said, still with a cold voice. If Ray was planning on staying, this was going to be a very long and cold day, indeed.

But she was right. They hadn't really gone anywhere all morning. They had stayed at Maria's apartment deciding what story they would tell from now on as their past, thinking through how they could use to their advantage the knowledge of Dave's real features and whereabouts, -assuming he _was _the real Dave- and exploring the network through the plasma screens.

"Oh," Ray said a little disappointed. Then, looking sideways to all the snacks waiting in the living room, realization hit him, his words coming faster than usual, and was he blushing? "You are meeting Samantha today, aren't you? Well, then, she can explain you how the whole thing works. She's been here longer than I, and the systems always change from place to place." It might have been Max's imagination, but Ray looked like he would really love to be somewhere else. Or maybe to avoid someone else…

"Okay, I'll leave you to your… reunion. Oh, and make sure you ask her how the whole 'living at home' thing works." Ray moved to exit, Liz moved to stop him.

"What do you mean 'living at home thing'?"

"You know," Ray said hastily. He was really in a hurry to get out of there, not caring to pretend otherwise either. "How to keep the fridge full, laundry, get new clothes, that sort of thing… If you still have doubts, call me." And with that Ray effectively passed beside Liz. His wife just stared at Ray's back and then at the empty hallway with raised eyebrows.

"Isn't he supposed to have to be more…" Liz cut her own sentence and turning to Max said, "He wanted out of here, didn't he?"

Max smiled. Oh, Ray wanted to get out of there, right, and Max had the distinctive hunch that it had everything to do with whoever this Samantha was. For that moment, he really liked this woman. This was going to be a long day, certainly, but so far, it was being an interesting one too.

--------------------------------------------

Liz had to admit to herself that it was a little bit childish to feel all excited about getting guests… especially under the circumstances and the fact that they were searching for information from said guests… and the fact that the other four guests weren't really _guests… _but she couldn't help herself.

She had suddenly noticed that this was her… _space_. House, apartment, cell… whatever it was, it was _hers._ Correction, hers _and_ Max's whatever, and since settling down had always been this far away illusion, it was something she just… enjoyed. That was the reason why she was so proud and wanted everything to be, well, perfect. She was no longer a girl. She was a woman, a wife, a house keeper… Liz absently shook her head… God, she wasn't even twenty… This wasn't exactly how she had imagined her house either… But then, when she had been a little girl, imagining her perfect future, she could have never imagined a more perfect husband… Because Max had had his faults –his _big_ faults- in the past, but he still was perfect. And the only thing that mattered was what they would do with their future.

Glancing at Max who was absorbed with Michael and Kyle exploring the menu at the plasma screen in the living room, she wondered what Max thought of his future. She had had her dreams: Graduate high school –with honors, of course- going straight to Harvard, loving her career, maybe finding love then, or later on at her dream job as a molecular biologist… she had always known that being the head of a molecular research in Harvard was a little bit too much. But that wasn't the point. The point was that she had had her dreams. She had thought a future and traced a path towards it.

But Max had only wanted to go unnoticed… Two years, one year… the future was always so far away for him. He had told her once that he would cross that bridge once they got to it. He first had to get out of high school alive. He had meant it as a joke, but there was nothing to laugh about that. Still, now they had the opportunity, didn't they? She already knew –they all already knew, really- that she would go for something biology related… but what about Max?

She knew what his interests were, but they had never really talked about what he would have chosen if he had gone with her to Northwestern. The same as she? Sure, Max was into science, not as much as she, but he liked it. He was especially good with numbers and— Liz's thoughts abruptly stopped, replaced by cold logic and reality.

What was she thinking? This wasn't a real house, and they weren't going to a real college, but the illusion was so perfect, that it tricked her, it comfortably tricked her into believing they were going to have an almost normal existence. Was it wrong? Was it wrong to believe it real? To actually plan some sort of future? Because they had only been a little bit more than a day in here… Shouldn't they still be paranoid or something?

We are just so tired… Liz said to herself in a whisper. They had been hiding this secret for years, with everything that that secret implied: from FBI agents to alien enemies. Then they had been on the run for so many months now… And they had not really even processed the fact that the FBI had been so close to them just last week. They had barely escaped and then kept going, running for their lives, putting as much space as they could between them and their hunters. They had no real advantage against them anymore. Then this whole offer had happened… And _then_ they had been stressing out about if it was a trap, and why to accept and why not…

Those hours in that blue cell had made time stopped to her. She had truly believed that was going to be the end of it. And now she was planning a future… It felt so wrong but it felt so good, as Michael had once told her on the road. She just couldn't keep stressing about it, not right now. She would do so the whole week, she could practically see herself having restless nights and being at the edge of having a nervous breakdown all next week, if not for a longer period of time. But something inside her told her that it was okay to feel a little bit safe. That Max was right, this was a shelter, and so far everything indicated that, even if they were prisoners of some sort, they were going to be well cared prisoners.

And this day, these well cared prisoners were having guests. Liz smiled broadly, the childish feeling returning to her. Isabel and Maria had gone to their own apartments to bring in some extra sodas just in case. She suspected they had actually gone to change themselves into something more formal, since she had taken especial care on how she looked this afternoon. Something Max had been really helpful with after Ray had left half an hour before.

"_Let me see if I got it straight," Max had said with a mischievous look in his eyes, "you want your blue jeans to look like a formal black dressing trouser…" Liz had nodded, watching herself on the full size mirror in the bedroom, "Can I make it stretch?" He had asked standing behind her._

"_Well, no—" Liz had innocently begun, truly not knowing why Max was thinking she wanted them stretch, until she had seen him through the mirror putting his hands on her waist, the jeans changing color right before her eyes, the fabric seeming more silk-like._

"_Because then," Max had said lowering his head to her right ear, "I will have to—" Max had let his words unfinished, his hands slowing descending to her legs, the fabric easily adjusting under his hands to the curves of her body. "And I have this very interesting idea of what I could do with your blouse…"_

"_Max…" she had whispered back, "we have guests…"_

_For the second time that day, a knock on the door had stopped them right then. Michael and Kyle had arrived, Maria and Isabel not far behind._

She knew that whatever was telling her that this was okay, was also telling Max that being in here was okay, or he wouldn't be… cherishing her like that. Otherwise, neither of them would be in the mood of being playful and mischievous with each other. Wouldn't be so _forgetful_ of the circumstances they were really in. She just hoped that that little voice wasn't lying to both of them.

A knock on the door brought her back to the present. Max, Michael and Kyle didn't even bother to turn around knowing it would be Isabel and Maria. Liz opened the door and, in fact, both girls were standing out there, with new clothes as predicted, but they weren't alone.

A woman no taller than herself, with long bright black hair and big emerald eyes was smiling from ear to ear to something that Isabel was saying. And beside Isabel was a tall man, as tall as Liz's sister in law, with the same emerald eyes, his own hair, if not as long as the woman's, long all the same, neatly tide into a pony tale. The four people standing in front of her stopped talking. Liz immediately let her surprise go and smiled at them.

"Come in," she said moving to the side, still holding the knob. As Maria was passing her by, Liz turned her head to the inside of the apartment, "Guys, our guests are here." It had been barely visible, but Liz was able to see how both Michael and Max tensed, their backs still to the door. It was only a moment, but it was enough to tell her that things might just not go as perfect as she wanted them to be.

Michael and Maria reached each other right in the middle of the living room, Max coming to her by the door as she was closing it, Isabel standing by Maria's side and Kyle in between the couples. Their two guests stood in front of the semi circle.

"So, I'm Samantha," the young woman started, a slightly British accent on her voice, something Liz hadn't noticed the day before, "and this is William." The similarity between the two of them was too obvious to think anything else, but still Liz heard herself asking, "Are you brother and sister?"

"Sure," she said clasping her hands in front of her, a little bit nervously, "I understand that you are also brother and sister?"

Liz turned to look at Max as she heard the others laughing lightly. Well, she and Max did look like they could be… it was kind of hard to picture Isabel and Max as sister and brother just by the looks –because God knew those two had a lot of… likeness on every other aspect of life, a fact of having grown up together, she guessed.

"Oh, come on Sam, you can't be that oblivious?" William said placing a hand over her shoulder, his accent more audible.

"What? Why?"

"You'll have to excuse my little sister for her lack of attention. She's only good with her work." He extended his hand to Max, with a bewildered Samantha seconds of hitting him hard. Liz knew the expression, Maria used it all the time on Michael.

"I'm Max," her husband said shaking the other man's hand, and proceeded to introduce the rest of the group. "This is my wife, Liz," he said smiling to Samantha, who finally understood her brother's statement. She smiled a little bit embarrassed, Max continuing.

"This is Kyle, Michael, Maria and my sister Isabel," Max finished, smiling to his sister. They really didn't look like brother and sister, Liz thought again, and if Liz had been told five years ago that she was going to end being sister in law's with the Ice Princess, she would have just shuddered at the possibility. But Isabel was a great sister-in-law, even if sometimes she drove her crazy with the million details that needed to be perfect, and not only for Christmas, but for daily stuff as well…

"Well, at least two of you _are_ siblings, I'm not that bad…" Samantha said as they all moved to the living room. With eight people in the room, there was a feeling of being crowded… The couch accommodated Kyle, Isabel, Maria and Michael, while Samantha seated herself on the sofa in the far extreme, William sitting on its arm, Liz and Max imitating them on the opposite sofa.

"So, are you enjoying your time in here?" Samantha asked, conversation starting, none of the six knowing how it would go. How much should they say? How much should they ask?

"Well, we didn't know what to expect," Kyle said, not lying, but not really answering either… something they were really good at, as a matter of fact. If only their parents had known… oh, right, they already did… but she was so not going to go there now.

"You arrived yesterday morning, right?" asked the older woman, her emerald eyes looking bright with curiosity. She was probably around her late twenties, Liz thought while watching her.

"We were here by lunch time," Isabel said, a little bit tensed.

"I see. You had the grand tour and all? I got lost the first month in this labyrinth…" Samantha said smiling.

"You would have got lost in here for the entire year if it hadn't been for the G.E.S." William said, and looking at them, he continued, "Because she's really bad with her sense of direction too, you know." Liz tentatively smiled, not sure of what to do, not wanting to hurt Samantha's feelings. Either way, now was the opportunity to ask other thing.

"Can you tell us what a G.E.S. is? Because they were brought here half an hour ago but we still have no idea what they are…"

"You haven't seen them? They are very useful. We called them 'Get Everywhere Soon', because their main function is to be the map of this place," William told them, "like a variation of a G.P.S., but they have a lot of other functions, like storing data and receiving e-mails. You can personalize them too," William stood up and reached for the inner pocket of the jacket he was wearing. Taking a small, gray, metal looking thing out of it, he opened it like a small notebook and gave it to Michael.

"If you have all of them in here, we could show you how to use them."

So the next hour passed between getting to know the G.E.S.'s –which William had told them they had a proper "technical" name, but since everybody called them Get Everywhere Soon, he couldn't remember which it was-, devouring the snacks and talking. Although in this talk of theirs, it was more important what wasn't being said that what actually was.

Neither Samantha nor William had said or asked them about where they were from, or their age, or not even their last names. It had been something that Maria had actually noticed before: no one in here gave you their last name at all. They had actually filled in the pattern pretty much automatically as well, after months and months of avoiding their own real names.

They didn't bring Dave either, or their respective deals. Liz could practically feel Max's growing anxiety about them not talking about the labs or the works that were being done there. Samantha had been the one who analyze his diamonds, hadn't she?

"_Before you go, Samantha, one of my analysts, asked me to tell you that you have never made a more perfect diamond than this one. _Dave's words echoed in her head. She must have analyzed more than one diamond by the sound of it, and certainly did know it had been Max's doing. So she knew about them, or at least _something _about them. But no one was saying a thing about that.

The only personal thing they had said was that William was the head researcher at the theoretical physics department and Samantha was the director of molecular research, both siblings working closely, often trying to come up with experiments that deal with the other's field. Which apparently wasn't that easy, especially since theoretical physics was all about things that couldn't be done to begin with… Or were highly hard to prove in real life.

Aside that, they were discussing the compound's layout, studying the map on the plasma screen. It was in itself a sort of a labyrinth. The South Wing, where they were, one could almost believe that one was in a college dorm. The complete wing was divided in eight areas, each with its own Laundry, a small area where all daily non-organic stuff was acquired –like all bathroom and kitchen stuff- and what Samantha had called "The Shop". There was actually just one Shop for the entire complex, and it was actually a place where one could order stuff by catalogue or the net. Clothes, especial food, even especial gifts could be ordered there. And where all other "stuff" could be acquired, though Samantha hadn't elaborated on that. William had seemed more focused on how to buy outside this place, though.

"It takes around three to ten days for delivery, so you better plan out what you want and when you want it. Of course, there's an 'informal economy' in here as well." William explained to them after showing Michael and Kyle how to access both music and movies from the virtual network. Entertainment was definitely not a problem in this place.

"Informal economy?" Liz asked from the kitchen, a Cherry Coke in her hand. Though Max was the official Cherry Coke consumer of the house, she had grown to like the soda as well. "Isn't that a term to describe the economy that doesn't pay taxes and stuff like that? Like the one between friends?"

"Sure," he answered with a smile, "that's why we use the term. Not everyone in here works researching something. So they do other stuff. You can get pretty cool gifts from Sarah in department 269, or from Sinisa in apartment 374. He's Czech." At the mention of Maria's former code word for alien, all six of them stopped doing whatever it was and turned to look at him, expectant.

"No, he's Croatian, no Czech." Samantha cut in, completely oblivious to the silence of the other six, totally absorbed on whatever it was that she had been showing Isabel on the G.E.S. screen. "And you should try Danielle, she's the best cook in here, and when she's not in duty she does these great meals with whatever you ask. Of course, she's pretty booked up, so I would suggest you ask her as soon as possible."

"But," Liz reacted, a question wanting to get out of her head since William had brought up the informal economy theory, "wouldn't any kind of economy need money to actually work? I mean, at least we're returning to bartering like thousands of years ago… or that we are in some sort of communism regimen…"

"You mean, like in Star Trek?" Kyle asked trying to follow up Liz's train of thought. Sometimes Kyle's comments made her feel extra aware of the fact that she knew a lot of these facts that no other High School girl would care to know about. But she couldn't help herself; she just plain loved knowledge and had the right mind to keep remembering stuff like that.

Except that Star Trek was a little bit out of her league. Living in a town where every single block had something alien related on it, she had never felt herself drawn to science fiction. Wasn't it just ironic that she was married to someone who would perfectly blend into any science fiction drama?

Kyle seemed to understand that _she_ wasn't following him, so he elaborated: "You know, no money at all. Everything is for the good of the community… That sort of thing."

"Well, yes and no." William answered frowning a little. "Some things are, like Kyle said, just for the good of the community, like the cafeteria or the vending machines. But others you do have to pay. You have your own account at the bank. That is, the Virtual Bank. Every transaction is done through the Network."

"We actually get paid?" Maria said with excitement.

"Sure, with credits. We don't use real money while we are here."

Maria's enthusiasm evaporated in a second. "Figures…"

"But that's for the best," Samantha said picking the last of the salty snacks, "because once you leave your real money is intact in the real bank. Is like saving big time."

"A bank account?" Maria asked, "As in a _real_ bank?" Liz easily knew what her best friend was thinking: Did they have a bank account somewhere? And how much was the amount of it? One more thing to ask Dave, Liz thought. Was this some game? Had he purposely left so many things unknown to them about how to live down here? "Because Ray didn't say a thing about that." Maria was finishing now.

"Ray? Administration Ray? You-don't-have-enough-clearance Ray? _Dave's_ Ray?" Samantha asked in a growing angry tone. All her sweetness evaporated in two seconds. Well, at least she does know about Ray and Dave, Liz thought for a moment, amazed at Samantha's change of mood.

"Yeah," Liz said with a little uncertainty, the rest of the group slightly nodding as well. Only William remained unaffected, almost as if he had been expecting that reaction from his sister.

"Of course _he_ wouldn't be able to tell you a thing," Samantha continued, her emerald eyes suddenly looking like ice, her tone still running high with anger. "There probably would have been some kind of _clearance_ problem…" Liz noticed by the corner of her eye that William was placing one hand over his face, in a slightly annoy gesture. It was almost as if saying "here we go again".

"I bet he just started and then he just shut up." Max turned to look at Liz, with a mix feeling of curiosity and a little fear. What was Samantha talking about? Or actually, why was she talking about like _that_? Liz just shrugged in an almost imperceptible way, while their guest continued. "And I also bet it was _he _who was supposed to tell you about the G.E.S., right?"

"Well…" Max started, clearly not sure if he should say anything or not. "He did leave them right before you came. I think he was going to explain them but he preferred to leave us to our… reunion…"

"Oh, I see. The coward preferred to not be in here because he knew—"

A cell phone rang, abruptly cutting whatever it was that Samantha was going to say. She stood up, and right after the second ring, she picked it up, walking towards the kitchen in an attempt of getting some privacy.

The other seven persons in the living room remained silent. William looked at his sister –or more likely at his sister's back- and slightly shook his head in a disapproval way.

"Where can I get one of those?" Kyle asked out of the blue, efficiently breaking the silence and turning William's attention as well.

"You mean the cell phones?"

"Yeah. A guy named Jeremy came here in the morning and he had one too." Kyle answered. Liz was paying attention to whatever William was going to say, but part of her was also trying to eavesdrop whatever Samantha was saying in the kitchen. Had it only been a coincidence that she had been called right before she was about to say something about Ray? Were they actually being watched after all? But Liz couldn't make a word of whatever was being said on a cell phone in her kitchen.

"Oh, you've met Jeremy? Has he filled you up with conspiracy theories already?" William asked with a huge smile.

"He was about to, that much I know," Kyle answered thinking it through, "but he also got called before he could even start." Obviously Kyle was thinking the same as Liz was. Well, at least I'm not the only paranoid in the group, she thought to herself.

"You'll have more time than you wish to hear all about it, trust me," William said standing up and walking to the screen. He called the map for the South Wing. "Not everyone likes cell phones, so that's why you don't have one already. They have to be asked for at the Virtual Network Base." Signaling it on the screen, William shook his head again, laughing a little bit. "Can you believe it? _Base._ The Network Keepers have all these names for everything they do. They are in a 24 hour quest, trying to get Dave. It's like the Holy Grail for those guys."

"You aren't curious about Dave, then?" Michael asked, leaning forward to grab his Snapple, desperately trying to not sound like he was dying to know that.

"Not really. I didn't know there was this whole mystery about who Dave was till two months ago, when I actually got to meet him. Now, the cell phones have to be cleared by the Network Keepers, so you'll get signal in this underground place."

Samantha finished her call and got out of the kitchen. "Sorry, there was a problem at the Lab, so I'll have to leave." Liz tried to not tense at the _lab_ word, just as she had felt Max done, so instead she got up from her seat.

"Are you sure?" She asked with a concern voice. The hostess worrying for her guest's well being.

"Yeah, I tried to solve it over the phone, but they couldn't understand me. Anyway, I'm sure Will be able to tell you whatever else you need to know." How many times have we heard that? Liz absently thought as she watched Samantha saying good bye to each of them. It was as if every hour someone else appeared with some new information that _someone _else was supposed to have told them already. Uh-uh, 'Will' is not going to leave this place 'til he finishes up telling us everything there is to know, Liz vowed that moment.

She and Max accompanied Samantha to the door –not that it was such a long trip, anyway- and saying "see you soon", the black haired woman disappeared in the corner of the hall.

"I am so sorry about the Ray thing," William said as soon as Max closed the door.

"So you also know Ray," Michael asked, clearly not wanting to let the subject go. And he shouldn't worry, because William didn't look like he was uncomfortably talking about it either.

"Of course I do. When Dave came to me two months ago, he told me he was assembling this… _team_ I think he called it, to work with you." So he knew. But how much did he actually know? "_There are only three people in this whole complex who know the truth about you: Ray, Jake and me."_ Dave had been clear about that, so whatever William knew, he didn't know all that much.

"And then, about a month after that," William kept saying, "he finally asked Samantha. She was furious when I told her I have already been cleared to participate. She's a very competitive woman, my sister. Anyway, I told her it had been both Dave and Ray's decision. After all, he's the one who advises Dave about who to trust and how much, for what is worth to advice Dave, of course. Dave goes with whatever he wants to go no matter who says what. But she had already set her mind into thinking that Ray had something against her. There are a lot of things that she has asked him but Ray just won't answer her because her clearance is not high enough or something. That's what she was referring to before."

"So you don't have high clearance either?" Isabel asked, intrigued by this rivalry between Ray and Samantha.

"I have enough clearance, that's what I think. I don't need more. Sam just wants to know too much too soon. That's not the way to go about these things. Obviously, Dave thinks very highly of you, because he's taken a lot of precautions and selecting the best on their fields that he has available. So Samantha was terrible wounded by the fact that she hadn't been considered the best of her field from the beginning. Even if she knows it was ultimately Dave's decision, she still blames it all in Ray."

"Why?" Max's sister asked again.

"I guess it's easier. After all, Dave was who gave both of us the opportunity to work on our own projects when we were just graduating college. No one out there would have done so. We would still be working for others, with no chance of being heads of departments in at least a decade or so. Our own ideas would be still waiting in a dark corner."

'A decade in a dark corner' wasn't exactly a set of words Liz wanted to hear right then. She had to focus on what was being discussed here. Some very interesting information was finally coming into light.

"Frankly," William was saying now, "I think Ray is scared of my little sister. I've seen him disappear faster than the Road Runner when he knows she's coming."

A tough guy like Ray disappearing like that? That was some image, Liz thought. Oh, she had seen Isabel in action, especially scaring the hell out of Michael, and just like her sister-in-law, Samantha seemed to be so sweet, so innocent. Still, if they were going to spend a lot of time in here, it was nice to know that not everyone was going to follow orders without complaining. Samantha could very well be a great ally.


	9. The Lab

Thanks guys for the notes! This is where the story really starts picking up speed ;)

**IX**

**The Lab**

Max fixed his eyes on the white ceiling, almost as if he were trying to count the white squares that were perfectly aligned above him and all around him. His wrists were red and they hurt because of the desperate efforts he had made trying to get himself free, and the back of his hands hurt too, in a stinging way, because of the endless times they had stuck needles into them. But this he barely noticed, lying face up on the metal table. He had been expecting this.

His muscles began to relax as he began to relax his breathing. He had been expecting this dream, just as he had been expecting Isabel's dream visit yesterday afternoon. The good thing was that because he was so used to this nightmare, he could stop it before it got worse. Before he remembered and relived one of the worst days of his life.

There was silence in the room. He remembered that when chaos had somehow faded a little over two days after he had been rescued, Michael and Isabel had told him in detail how they had been able to do so. He had been shocked for a brief moment to learn that he had been held for less than 24 hours. It had seemed like an eternity for him. He had been lying on that cold table, lying on that cold floor for years. He had been hearing Pierce's threatening and cynical voice for ages. He had lived through it for so long that he couldn't even remember _how_ long. It was almost insane that the world outside those walls had continued living, spinning around for only hours.

Of course Liz had told him the Special Unit had gotten him for only a day when they were in the car, but he hadn't registered it then. Hearing it from Isabel and Michael in a much calmer atmosphere had made it really hit him. The shock had passed in a second, but the memory still echoed in his head.

He was dreaming now, his subconscious never free of this place, but at least now he could do something about it. He could keep things quiet, unmoving. He could keep Pierce's ghost and white-masked men outside the room. The place that had been meant as his hell could now be turned into his sanctuary. It had taken him months to be able to do so, but now he had control. Control to stop his nightmares and go through the night without wakening up screaming or something worse.

The problem with controlling his dreams was that he couldn't get much rest. He would awake tired and feeling he had not slept at all through the entire night. _That_ he had learned too. So the real trick was to know when to stop his dreams from turning into nightmares and when to let his imagination go. To actually lose control.

He closed his eyes but made a very conscious effort to keep the silence. As long as nothing made a sound, then no one would come. Hopefully, soon he would go deeper into his sleep, passing the REM state and going into the non-REM state where he wouldn't dream at all. Just rest. He had learned a lot about dreams when Isabel had started to dreamwalk years ago, but he had _really_ learned about the mechanics of sleeping and dreaming when Isabel had suggested he start controlling his dreams after his experience in the real version of this white room.

He had thought it was impossible. But truth was that, even if very rare, there were people out there, normal human people, that did realize they were dreaming and could act and change things in their minds. According to what he had read, a person had said he only needed some kind of trigger to notice he was dreaming. Like if he had a recurring dream, one element of it would tell him it wasn't real, that he was indeed dreaming.

So Isabel had been the trigger. Dreamwalking him, when he wouldn't believe he was trapped in his mind and not in the real world, Isabel would appear. "Think Max! If this were real, I wouldn't be here! You know you are already out!" Slowly, he had been able to make his own triggers. Rooms with large white squares meant dreams. Pierce's voice also meant dreams. And as depressing as it was, during that summer, having Liz at his side also meant he was dreaming. Liz was far away in Florida. End of the story. So, in order to stop having nightmares, for a little while, it seemed he would have to stop having sweet dreams too.

The next part about this whole controlling dream stuff was to actually change your dreams. This was infinitely more difficult than to just realize you were dreaming. He guessed that part of his mind didn't really believe he wasn't awake and, therefore, couldn't believe he could change the entire scenery around him. Of course, he had the advantage that in the waking world he _could_ change things with his mind, it was just the idea of changing _everything_ that his mind wouldn't process. Someone over the net had told him that when she was having nightmares she didn't change what was happening in the dream, that she altogether stopped dreaming it.

"_Stop dreaming it? What do you mean?" he had typed the words, eagerly wanting to learn how to get rid of his nightmares, happy to finally find someone who claimed she could become aware of the dreaming state._

"_Well, yeah. I mean, for instance: Your typical monster running behind you. All I do is just stop running and tell myself: 'This is crazy. I'm just dreaming. This is not real.' So, the dream stops, and suddenly, I'm dreaming something else. By that point, I forget I'm dreaming, and I just go along with it."_

"_Don't nightmares return?" he had asked then, thinking that his problem wasn't that he was running from someone, but that he couldn't run at all._

"_Sure, they might. It's not an exact science, you know? You'll just have to keep stopping them as long as you are aware you are dreaming them."_

But he _had_ made it an exact science. It had taken him the entire summer and several visits from his sister into his dreams every night, but finally, he had managed it. And ever since he had been able to sleep through nights without fearing the worst of his memories would come to haunt him, he had been relieved. He had actually been able to rest.

His memories didn't haunt him all that much in the waking world as anyone would think. He just had too much in his mind to get lost in things that were already in the long distant past. Oh, he knew and he always had it present that if he wasn't careful they all could end up just in the same white room he had been able to escape, but it wasn't the same. He didn't dwell in his memories, he didn't relive every second of it every time he thought about it. Not often and not entirely, anyway.

It was only at night that his subconscious could have a chance to come out and play freely if he let it. Max took a deep breath and let it go. He had been so sure he was going to have this dream tonight because of what was awaiting for him in the morning. _The Lab._ God, he couldn't even say the entire word, just its abbreviation. And it was just insane that he was scared of it. He had agreed to go there, and Dave had agreed that nothing bad would happen to them. No metal straps, no nauseous drugs, no white walls. So, why was he so scared? Why were Michael and Isabel so scared too?

Well, it was hard to altogether stop being afraid of a word that had always meant that horrible things would happen to you. Ever since he had understood what he was he had been scared of labs, of hospitals, of people wearing white lab coats. It was almost as if people could see through him and see how different he was. What would they do to him then? To them all?

His childhood fears never really diminished, they just changed a little. People couldn't tell he was different only by looking at him. And still, that need of being invisible, even if he didn't want to be so invisible, was there. Maybe if people looked too closely they would actually see the difference. Maybe if he wasn't invisible enough people would pay way too much attention to him… enough attention to see, to really _see_.

Isabel was the total opposite to that. She thought that if she played the role to perfection, if she was the perfect little angel and the most brilliant star, then no one would notice that she was different. For her, invisibility was _not _an option. If she lost her radiant light, then they would all _know_.

And then there was Michael… who didn't care if people noticed him or not. He had always known there was no way they could tell he was different if he didn't let them see. So he had made a point in his life of not letting anyone see. Yet, as different as the three of them had decided how to live their lives and keep their secret, _the Lab _were two words that sent cold waves through their spines. Because no matter how or why, if they were discovered, they all knew where they were going to end up. They had known it just too damned well to not be scared of it.

The last thing he had learned about controlling his dreams was that, if he tried too hard to control them, or started to act and think too vividly in them, he would wake up. So he wasn't anymore trapped in an imaginary white room, but lying face up over his own bed, with Liz sleeping right beside him. He was sleepy, for which he really thanked his lucky stars, because there was no way he would spend the entire night thinking about what was going to happen in the Lab in a few hours and still manage to go there and act coherently. He was just too tired. Experience had taught him long ago that his powers would be a little bit off if he wasn't rested. He would kind of lose aim or something.

He yawned, and in the middle of it, another thought crossed his mind. Would this Jake know that they were holding themselves up? That they weren't really trying with all their strength? And what kind of person was Jake? What kind of person was Dave's long time friend? He had already thought about this last night, when they had first learned about their schedule, so going about it was just like going in circles. Max closed his eyes, already falling asleep again, just that this time, he held Liz a little bit closer. With Liz by his side, it was not going to be a problem for his mind to settle on exactly the kind of dream he wanted. The Lab could wait till tomorrow. After all, it was time for him to have a sweet dream.

------------------------------------------

Michael woke up two minutes before the alarm rang. He hated when that happened. Somehow, even if it was only two minutes, he felt sleep deprived. It didn't help any that he was already tensed either. He could feel a tiny little spark trying to escape his fingertips. Nervous energy. He hated that, too. It happened rarely as well, and he just didn't want to admit he was paying a great deal of attention to this whole Lab business - A fact that was being so terribly betrayed by his nervous energy outburst.

The other fact that didn't help him either was that Maria was sleeping next to him. She had been tossing around and kicking the sheets –and him- the whole damned night. Not that he thought he would have gotten too much sleep if he had been in his own apartment, really, but it meant that he had to hide this "nervous energy" from her, or she would just get nervous with him.

Maria had taken it so… normally? Naturally? Lightly? Resignedly? He wasn't sure what, but Maria wasn't scared in the least about the whole Lab thing, at all. But was she right? Of course she is, Michael told himself while turning the alarm off before it went beeping, there's nothing to be nervous about. Maybe if he kept telling himself that he might actually believe it.

He had seen Max's anguished look at Liz's request to go with them. Max was far more scared than Michael, it had seemed, and it probably had a lot to do with the fact that Michael only had ideas of what could happen in a Lab. Max already knew.

"_We should have never split up. I mean I never should have left him alone." _Michael's own voice of that night years ago echoed in his head. He would have traded places with Max in a heart beat. It was Michael who was the strongest one, the one who could deal with anything life decided to throw at him. It was he who had always been so sure there was a "them", and that everyone was the enemy. It was Michael who had to protect Max. And he had failed.

Michael passed a light hand over Maria's arm in order to wake her up. Maria barely stirred in her sleep. Months of practice had shown him the exact way to wake up Maria in a non-emergency way. Not too sudden, not too quick, and definitely not forceful at all. Waking her up was an art, and Michael had learned his lessons too damned well, so not even his nervous energy was going to interrupt the delicate process of bringing Maria back to the world of the living.

Maria and Liz were scheduled to the Gym. Why had Dave thought that was a good idea? Maria hated waking up early almost as much as having to do exercise. And it _was_ too damned early too, the red numbers on the alarm clock reading 6:01 a.m. He passed another tentative hand over Maria's arm, trying to decide if it was time to start with the it's-time-to-wake-up speeches or to still be in the I'm-lightly-touching-you stage. Since Maria didn't really move at all, Michael knew it was the latter and not the former the course of action.

Isabel, Max and Michael had been talking last night about how to act at the Lab. Since they didn't know Jake, it had been kind of hard. They knew they had to start talking about their individual powers and their fake limits at some point, and they also knew that they had to be careful. Because once the story was out there, there was no turning back. They really couldn't be caught in a lie. Especially in a lie involving their part of the deal.

It wasn't till ten minutes later that Michael could actually start with the second part of waking Maria up. They had to be at the Lab by 7:00 a.m. and Maria not really waking and getting up was not a good sign that that was going to happen at all. So he got up and kissed her lightly on the forehead.

"Maria, I'm going to my place, okay?"

"Hm? Why? What time is it?" his Sleeping Beauty asked with her eyes still closed.

"Almost 6:15. But we both have to be ready and one bathroom is not going to make that happen, so I'll see you later, okay?"

Maria actually opened her eyes this time, trying really hard to wake up and understand Michael's words.

"Aren't we supposed to all go? And what time did you say?"

They had agreed that they would all go together till the South Wing limit, where they would all split. God, how much he hated to have to follow stranger's orders.

"Yeah, I'll pass by when I get ready. But you should get up now, is almost 6:15. I'll see you in twenty minutes."

Michael left Maria's apartment already knowing that Maria wasn't really getting up as she should. But the girl was an expert at getting ready on a ten minute mark, having perfected the act during four years of being a waitress on the earliest shift. He had seen her in action, and it was something remarkable.

He wasn't bad at all himself. After all, he had been a cook for the earliest shifts as well. But today he needed to take his time, especially if there was some nervous energy trying to slip through his fingers. He needed to calm down. They had agreed to go to the Lab. They had agreed to do tests and to let others prove their powers. And they had been promised that nothing that happened there was going to be a bad thing.

Well, not exactly. As Michael was putting on his T-shirt after his quick shower, he was recalling what exactly they had been promised.

"_You are not obliged to do everything that you are asked to, but I do expect that you'll be reasonable as to why you won't do whatever Jake wants. You'll work with him on the details of this, of course, but you can say 'no' or 'enough'. I don't expect you to kill yourselves to prove something, or to think that the deal is over if you don't want to do some things for whatever reason."_

Nope, Dave hadn't exactly said nothing _bad _was going to happen. He had only said they could say "no" or "enough". Well, that was a thought. That could very possibly mean that something "bad" could really happen, or at least the lab people could suggest something bad enough for them to refuse to do it. Tiny little green sparks jumped between his fingertips, almost as if they were static electricity. Almost. If only he could fool himself…

------------------------------------------

If she had had it her way, they would have been gone 45 minutes before and not only 25. Isabel hated to be late, and she certainly would hate even more if she were late to this particular… _appointment_. They had gathered in the hall and had started to walk north. The Gym was right before the Cafeteria, which was in the center of the complex. The Lab, or actually the specific Lab they were heading toward since this place was full of them, was about two "blocks" after the Cafeteria in the North Wing. Two blocks and two floors down.

The complex was not only divided in four wings, but there were places where you could actually go down five floors. They actually were some good 100 feet underground right now, according to what William had said. When they had ended their first meeting with Dave two days before, they had been guided to an elevator at the other side of the room. She had never felt more claustrophobic in a space before, except maybe for now.

Thinking about all the distance that separated her from the sun and the sky and freedom was making her feel like the walls were closing in on her. And yet, she didn't miss a step. One thing she had learned in her early years in high school was that everyone can smell fear, especially teenage popular girls, if you don't perfectly hide it. Fortunately for her, hiding and pretending was a given in her genes. And if some of her Antarian heritage was still in her, she'd bet an Antarian princess didn't show fear either. So Isabel walked with a confidence she was far from feeling, but that she portrayed without any effort.

Max and Michael had said good bye to Liz and Maria feigning that it was no big deal. The six of them hadn't really talked too much on the short walk –their apartments were about three or four blocks from the Cafeteria area- but it had been clear that Liz had made Max promise that he wouldn't block her, no matter what.

"_They are going to be fine," Maria had told Liz with a sincere smile, "I mean, if they want the Pod Squad to stay and return, they'll have to treat them right, won't they?" _

_The three members of the Pod Squad –and Isabel didn't really approve of the term- looked at her with uncertainty. She was right about the fact that they indeed had to return day after day, but somehow the idea didn't ease her nervousness. Turning to face Michael, Maria had poked him in the elbow. _

"_You show them how you completely obliterate things and they'll leave you alone," she had said with a mischievous smile, making Michael smile back at her, clearly having some thoughts of his own as to how to make those people, well, leave him alone._

Michael could always find very creative ways of using his powers to his advantage, especially in the revenge area. That thing that gave people rashes, how had he come up with it? Michael could be really mean, and even if his powers weren't involved, he would still find ways of getting even with whoever had chosen to cross his path. And the scary thing was that Kyle was just the same way.

Gosh, she wasn't even going to start thinking about how Kyle was going to use his powers once he got them under control –assuming he would actually develop them- and dealing with Kyle and Michael at the same time… Let's just hope it never came to that.

Kyle had been uncharacteristically quiet when they had left the Gym. He was supposed to meet with Dave in the same living room above ground, so Kyle had barely said "I'll see you guys later" before turning left to his destination. And now the three of them were walking alone with their thoughts.

Even if they had seen people both at the Gym and at the Cafeteria, the corridors they were walking now were pretty much deserted. Isabel checked her watch. They still had eleven minutes to get there on time. Eleven minutes to darken their already dark thoughts too.

It was crazy. They were going to make this trip every day for only God knew how long. Maybe someday they'd even laugh about this too. Although right now, that day seemed to be _very_ far away. The three of them stood in front of the elevator's door, which had no buttons at all. William had told them to wear their white cards at all times, because Ray hadn't been kidding about the cards meaning "free pass". Every single door opened by scanning the cards people were wearing. Besides that, if one of the group didn't have his or her card, the doors wouldn't open either.

The elevator opened, and they entered the very large space. She wondered why the elevators were so big since apparently there were never too many people using them. Since the four walls had mirrors, the three of them stared at their own reflections. Dave had been very clear in saying that, except for their apartments, every single inch of the complex was being watched. Staring right at herself, she also wondered who else was watching her every move. By her right, she saw Michael's reflection moving his right hand as if something were itching it and he was trying not to show it. For only an instant, Isabel saw a tiny green spark playing around Michael's fingers.

"Michael!" Isabel exclaimed in a hushed tone, turning to see the real Michael with a fearful stare. Max followed Isabel's gaze, clearly not understanding why his sister was acting like that.

"I know," Michael said in an almost annoyed tone, hiding his hands in his jacket pockets. "I'm managing, okay? It's just a little nervous energy, that's all," Michael defended himself, changing his gaze from hers to Max's, almost as if daring him to say something too. Isabel turned in time to see Max frowning, still trying to understand what they were talking about. He seemed to get it two seconds later when, turning to see the doors opening, quietly said: "I have a little nervous energy myself."

Isabel instantly lowered her eyes to Max's hands, which she then noticed were hiding in his pockets as well. Max went out of the elevator without any other word, so she followed him and in turn Michael followed her. Once out, the three of them resumed their original position walking side by side: Max, Isabel and Michael. It was always like that. Wherever they went, she was always in the middle, as if her two brothers –biologically or not- were actually her two bodyguards. Granted, she scarcely needed bodyguards at all, but this was something she felt really comfortable with. It comforted her to know they were always at her sides. It made her feel… protected.

Of course, being in the middle wasn't always all that great. That was, as she silently observed, the _figurative middle_ that she didn't like at all. Ever since Michael had re-appeared in their lives when they were kids, Isabel had always been stuck in the middle of those two. She wasn't sure if it was because she had been the only girl, or if it had been because she had –as far as she knew- a more balanced view of things, while Michael and Max were always at the extremes. Whatever the reason, the fact remained: She was always in the middle.

The three of them paused for two seconds in front of the glass doors that divided this section of the complex. This was their third door so far: One that divided the apartments from the common area, right before they reached the Gym, and another one that separated the North Wing from said common area that also included the Cafeteria. Just as before, the doors slid open, each one to its own side. They kept going. The corridors were about 12 feet wide and maybe 15 feet high, and most of their walls were bare. They weren't white, as their apartments' walls were, but a bluish-gray, the floor being a dark blue itself. Their steps didn't make a single sound, but it wasn't because they didn't want to, she thought, it was as if the floor itself absorbed the sound. She wondered if high heels would actually make any sort of noise at all.

"I hate this silence," Michael said out of the blue.

"We are almost there," came Max's calm response, almost tricking her into believing that Max had no problem at all with the place they were going to.

Max had always had that calm _thing_ about him. That reassurance that made it just impossible that they, the whole group, didn't consider him the leader. Max had the answers. He knew how to keep a cold and clear mind in desperate times. You just didn't look at Max and think "this guy doesn't know what he's doing." That had been the reason why she had been so terribly scared on the few occasions she had seen Max losing his temper, or his control and he had crumbled down. He just was not supposed to do it. Thank goodness it had happened on _really_ few occasions, or she didn't believe they would be walking this corridor right now.

Max hadn't really changed much since they were kids. No wonder their mother thought that Max was so secretive and why Isabel took that for granted. _He's Max. It's who he is. He's always been that way, _she had once told her mother without a second thought. But now that she was thinking it, she didn't envy Max for the heavy burden he had always placed upon himself. Though sometimes she wondered why Max had turned into such a shy guy and she into such a popular girl. It wasn't their secret, she reflected, it was just who they really were, because Michael hadn't been neither shy nor popular…

It had taken some time to get used to Michael's… _personality,_ for putting it in some way, when they had finally met again. Michael was wild in everyone's eyes, but he was just so different when it was just the three of them. He had always been protective, he had always cared that they were all right, even if he didn't exactly show it all the time. Michael had understood way before them that the three of them belonged together, that they were a unit, a family. And it wasn't just because they were the same; it was because they shared things, sensations, feelings, secrets… They viewed things in ways that no other being did, and they understood that from each other. As long as they were together nothing bad could happen…

Except that the _together_ part hadn't been exactly easy. While Max tried to be as low key as you could get, Michael hadn't cared at all that everybody avoided him like the plague. And of course, Isabel _had_ to be seen, she had to be radiant. They were quite a strange trio, now that she was reflecting on it while walking with short but firm steps through a corridor that was way below ground, but in _that_ the three of them had agreed back then: They didn't give a damn how strange they seemed. They _had_ to stick together; it was the only way they would survive.

The funny thing, though, was even _if_ they had believed they were together just because of what they were, Tess would have pretty much trashed the idea. She had been like them, and yet Tess had never really belonged with them. Maybe Tess had always known it, and on some level, they had known it too. They all had tried, the four of them, but there had never been that… _click_. That feeling of being complete.

Maybe it had started because they were the same, but they had remained together because with time they had really understood each other. Well, maybe _understood _was a little bit of a stretch… They had known each other as siblings do. But they had never understood or known Tess, and Tess had never understood them back either. They wanted completely different things and viewed everything from such distant points of view that it was just impossible. And though Isabel had been relieved that there was another girl like her, she had missed the days when it was only the three of them.

Well, her wish had been granted. Now they were again just three. Isabel unconsciously reached with her left hand for Max's right hand and, in a gesture that they hadn't shared in years, Isabel felt Max's hand reaching for hers too. Neither of them turned to see the other, even if Isabel had been surprised to feel Max's hand so cold. They had always shared that movement, ever since they had emerged from their pods. Even if she didn't want to leave Michael out, this was a true sibling thing between her and her brother. Every single time that they had been scared of the unknown they had reached for each other: From entering their home for the first time, to getting off the bus the first day at their new school. And boy, did they feel scared right now.

The three of them stopped in front of the Lab door. An ordinary bluish, heavy-looking, metal door, not different from the dozens they had passed on their way from their apartments. It didn't have any kind of electronic key, or numbers to enter codes or anything at all that they were expecting. It didn't even have a key hole under the handle. It was just a simple door with white numbers that read 2 – 00 – 22, the only way they had been able to identify this was, indeed, the place where they should be.

Letting go of her brother's hand, Isabel finally turned for a moment to look at him and then at Michael. Nodding briefly, she took a quick breath and reached for the handle. For a brief moment before opening the door she was really glad she didn't have to do this alone. Because as long as they were together nothing bad could happen, right?

------------------------------------------

Jake R. Holt was a very patient man. In fact, he was so patient, that he could count how many times in his life he hadn't been patient. Of course, he reflected as he awaited in his office, that wasn't exactly remarkable for him. He could know how many times of _anything_ he had done in his life in a matter of seconds, since his memory had the little game of not only memorizing stuff, but actually counting it, cataloguing it, organizing it and calling upon it every single time he needed to. It had started as a game when he was three, and now he couldn't stop himself.

Actually, it was because he had been doing that that his mom had found out he wasn't like all the other kids. At three he had been "diagnosed" with the terrible "disease" of being a genius. He hadn't liked how that had sounded back then, and forty years later, he still didn't like it at all. Being a genius wasn't all that it was supposed to be.

Ever since his neighbors had found out they would stop him and ask him a million questions just to see if he would make a mistake in answering. Seriously, at the age of 4, the last thing he wanted to do was to answer stupid questions about how big the state of New York was or how many moons Saturn had. But even then, he had been a little patient boy, answering while counting how many red spots Mrs. Barnett's shirt had or how many cars were passing by just behind her.

He had invented a million ways of making his mind wander without anyone noticing, games to just kill the boredom that was always there when he was doing something he didn't like. And boy, there had been a million things he had had to do and hadn't liked at all.

By the age of five, little Jake had started to get really intrigued about why, oh why, he was a genius. He had then started to read everything he could put his little hands on –and Ms. Julian had been really helpful at the local library- about the subject. Of course, in 1964, there wasn't much he could put his little hands on about the mechanics of the brain, much less about genetics. But that hadn't stopped him. Once he started on the brain, he was caught up in the intrinsic mechanics of how one works. From the brain, he passed to the spine, and from the spine, to the entire nervous system, and _then_, to the entire human body.

When Jake was six, he was a walking, talking biology encyclopedia, and it was right then, on his sixth birthday, when the little genius boy had found out about one other thing that he wouldn't like, not then, not now, not ever: He was allergic to almonds. It had been the worst experience of his young life.

_Anaphylactic shock _had been two words that he had learned that day. He had nearly died because of a very serious allergy to almonds and all kinds of nuts in general. It was scary, even at the age of six, to know that something so small and that everyone could eat, could potentially kill him. And that had been how little Jake R. Holt had started to investigate about allergies.

That same month his mom had gotten in trouble with the law. It hadn't been _her_ fault, it had been her boyfriend's fault, who had thought she would make a nice punching bag. Being that this was the eighth boyfriend who had thought that, Jake had finally had it. He had called the police. The judge had told her that her taste in man was so damned poor that he didn't know how her son –that was him- could put up with her with his Einstein's IQ. He had then threatened to take away Jake's custody if she didn't pull herself together. He had said too that she and her son needed counseling.

So his mom had decided to send him to this really renowned psychologist who specialized in genius kids. Big mistake, mom, really big mistake… If only they had known…

Back in 2003, Jake let the memory go. He had loved his mom for all the six years and a half he had known her, and he still called her "mom" in his mind, since he had never been able to grow up by her side to the point of calling her "mother". He smiled. He bet that his Mom would have been proud of him if she could see him now. Maybe, just maybe, if it hadn't been for the terrible mistake of choosing that particular psychologist, the events that had led him into this life and into meeting Dave would have never happened. And not meeting Dave would have also meant that he would have never met life from another place.

This time, Jake smiled broadly. It was a really good thing that his main interest wasn't in knowing what little green men knew about how to travel through space or about their home planet, but instead, what he could find out about how they _worked_. More specific, how their biology worked. Because there was nothing more fascinating than to try to decipher the simplest cell structures and how billions of simple cells made one alive.

That was what he was waiting for in his office: Billions of cells that made three very unique beings, walking into this room. Well, that was the scientific part of him. The human part of him was equally excited on knowing the conscious part of those billions of cells, because Jake knew, -oh, did he know-, what it felt like to be unique in the world. And because, after all, they weren't really aliens in all the sense of the word: They didn't know about space travel or much of their home planet for all Jake had heard Dave talking about. They were three teenage kids with extraordinary abilities who were willing to let him explore how they worked.

Ever since Dave had told him about them, he had been theorizing about how the human brain could be able to work by breaking the rules of physics and chemistry and God knew what else. He had a million ideas about how that was possible, and another million ideas of how to prove it, to test it. He knew that some of those ideas where a little bit out of the ordinary, but sure the four of them could get to an agreement. He had it all planned out in his head. This was going to be great.

Jake checked his watch: 6:54. They still had time. Jake liked to be punctual, but half of the time he forgot what time it was, so he wouldn't blame them if they were late themselves. In fact, he had been so worried about losing track of time that he had entered this office and sat in his chair behind his desk since 6:30 a.m. _He_ was not going to be late.

It was a good thing that he really didn't sleep all that much, or else, being awake at 6:30 a.m., after the six past days he had had, would have been downright impossible. When the kids had arrived last Wednesday early morning, he had been ready for them. And nothing had been unusual about all the medical tests they had scheduled to make sure the six of them were healthy.

Dave had pretty much asked every five minutes if they were okay, a fact that, if not for Jake's huge patience limit, would have driven him nuts. Jake had shortened his six hour period of sleep to four hours, so he could keep assuring Dave that things were going according to plan. Besides, he was way too excited about this to sleep more than that.

And everything had gone okay until the third day, when Max's heart hadn't liked the idea of Max's entire body being inactive for such a long time. As far as Jake could theorize, they were like batteries over charging themselves with the lack of use. Being forced to be asleep for such a long period of time was unhealthy for them.

Well, that was what he thought. And that was exactly what he had told Dave before he had asked for the millionth time -57th, according to his memory- if they were okay.

"_They are not going to be okay if we don't wake them up now." Jake had said seriously, studying Max's EKG._

"_You mean right now?" Dave had asked with the same seriousness, clearly going to agree on that if there was no other path. Jake knew that Dave had planned out every single stage of whatever his plan was, and that this would disrupt said plan terribly. Still, Dave was no fool. _

"_Right now it's just a small abnormality, the first sign of something that could go wrong. But I would advise you to wake them up within the hour. Let the sedative wear off."_

"_Okay," Dave had said, his mind processing a million changes to his plan. "I'll tell Samantha to hurry with the diamond, and you, my friend, hurry too with them. They'll have to be placed in their rooms before they awake, even if they'll have to stay there longer than I wanted…"_

He would have to ask Max if he had felt anything unusual with his heart, but Jake seriously doubted that it had been anything at all. Especially with Max's own healing ability, that would have probably taken care of the problem without Max's awareness. Boy, that was an extremely handy ability.

Jake's office was a very large space, about 12 feet by 16 feet, with his huge wood desk at one end of the room, -that, by the way, had taken him ages to clear out of towers and towers of paper sheets- and a small fridge just reachable by his left hand at the back. He was always grabbing food at all times, so it made perfect sense to have it there. Beside the fridge, he had a small cupboard to keep the non-fridge food –just reachable by his right hand. In the other end of the office he had a small living room, where, if he actually did it, he would take naps just like Ray did from time to time when Dave was using his own living room above ground. According to Ray, these were the next best things to take naps on.

There were two doors in Jake's office, each at one side in the middle of the walls. The one at his right was for the corridor outside, and the one to his left was the one that led to his labs. He hadn't complained at all when Dave had asked him if he needed more space to do whatever he was planning to do in order to test their abilities and, two months later, Jake's only lab had tripled it's size. So now he had so much space to himself that he couldn't call it a lab, but instead, the labs. Oh, he had so many ideas of how to prove and analyze and measure everything and anything they could do, that Jake couldn't wait to start. Checking his watch again, he saw the door handle slowly going down. They were just in time.

The door started to open slowly, bringing Jake back from his cloud, making his heart beat a little bit faster, his eyes eager with anticipation. Isabel entered first, followed by Max and then Michael. The three of them just stood there, right in the middle of the room, practically staring at him, barely breathing, not saying a thing. The only sound in the office was the door closing itself.

At that moment, Jake forgot all about hearts, abilities, tests or how great this was supposed to be and, for an instant there, he was also glad he wasn't wearing a white lab coat and a stethoscope and that his office didn't look like a chemist's lab. The only thing that Jake could think of when he looked at them was exactly the only thing he could say: "For Pete's sake, you are going to faint!"

The three staring kids looked at him with surprise for a second and, as if on cue, looked to the floor, blushing a little and looking so small in front of him, almost as if this was some scene out of a teenage movie, where the three of them had just been busted by the principal.

"Please, please, sit down," Jake finally said, showing them with a gesture of his hand to where to sit in the living room behind them, trying to let go of the shock of knowing that these kids weren't exactly _eager_ to be here. What was going through those heads? Well, by the looks of it, nothing good.

He stood up and opened the small fridge to get a six pack of Cokes, and turning around he caught them sitting down, giving each other nervous glances and definitely avoiding looking at him. What the hell did you tell them, Dave? Jake wondered for a second while going to the small living room himself. Since the three of them sat on the middle couch, -Max, Isabel and Michael, and he would notice with time that the two boys always tried to leave Isabel in the middle- Jake went to the one on their left.

"You look exactly as I did when I was going to visit my neighbor, Mrs Barnett. If you did as much as breathe, something would break, and boy, you _really _didn't want to break a thing in Mrs. Barnett's house." He finished his analogy, not receiving even a hint of a smile for his attempt at humor. So he started passing out the Cokes one by one, leaving the remaining two sodas on the small table in the middle.

"We are not… really… hungry…" Isabel said, passing the Coke to her brother.

"I know," Jake said opening his soda, the sound of it echoing in the office, "I can tell neither of you ate a thing this morning. You probably have a knot in the middle of your stomachs right now." Jake took a sip of his Coke and, seeing that neither of them as much as attempted to open the cans, he gave up.

"Listen, I know you are nervous. I would have to be blind to not notice it, but I don't know _why_ you are so damned nervous. So, please, drink the Coke. You really look like you need the sugar." And you sure look like you want to be anywhere but here, he silently added as Isabel reluctantly opened her can, Max following her example. Michael eyed him with suspiciousness in his eyes. For a fraction of a second Jake was tempted to tell Michael _want to change Cokes?_ so he wouldn't believe the sodas had something in them. Because Jake didn't need to be a genius to know that that was exactly what Michael was thinking. But finally, Michael also opened his Coke, if only to place it in front of him on the table.

Thirty seconds passed in which no one said a thing. It was obvious that his early question as to why they were so nervous was not going to be answered, and that an invisible ice wall was beginning to form between them. Gee, talk about thick…

"Okay," he began, finally deciding on a course of action to break the iceberg that was passing between them right now. "I had this whole introductory speech prepared, so I better start with it… before you burn me," Jake finished his sentence watching Michael's hand. For just a second he had seen a tiny green spark. Wow. Half of his brain was on remembering the speech and the other half was amazed at the possibilities of such a spark. What could trigger it, and how it was triggered and why—Jake stopped staring when Michael folded his arms in front of him in a clearly defensive way.

"Okay… yeah… sorry…" Jake cleared his throat, placing his Coke on the table as well. "I'm Jake, as… you know. You just call me Jake as well… everybody else does…" Why was he so suddenly nervous? He hadn't anticipated being nervous at all. What strange effect a green spark had, he reflected for an instant. Taking a short breath, Jake recollected all his thoughts –including the ones that had been stuck still marveling with green sparks- and swept away his nervousness.

"We'll be working for a long time, hopefully, so there are some things that we should establish from the beginning." Thankfully, the three of them nodded a little. It hadn't passed unnoticed to Jake that, except for Isabel's comment about not being hungry, none of them had said a single word yet. _Captain, this iceberg is going nowhere._

"It'll be only the four of us working in here—"

"Just the four of us?" Michael asked out of the blue, totally cutting him off. Well, maybe the iceberg wasn't all that big…

"Yeah… at least that you want… the other three to come—"

"No!" Max said, almost dropping his soda, "I mean, that's not necessary… Aren't there going to be more… people working with you?"

"No. It'll be you three and I alone."

"Why?" Michael asked, the suspiciousness returning to his eyes.

"Well, actually, there are two reasons as to why: First, you already know that no one besides Dave, Ray, and myself knows the truth about you, so bringing anyone else would also mean telling them the truth as well. And that's the last thing you or Dave want, so… And secondly, this will teach you a lot of stuff that you should know about yourselves."

Question marks greeted his words.

"_You_ are going to… let's say 'assist' me during our projects. You need to know what happens to you, physically, when you are manipulating your environment. How it affects you and why it affects you, and so you'll see how to take advantage of it." Jake had stood up and had started pacing, but he hadn't really noticed it while he kept talking about what he had been thinking about for at least six months now. "And besides, you'll also need to know what can happen to you in the event of, let's say, an accident. Once you'll leave this place, you should be able to know how drugs affect your system, what to do in an emergency, especially if Max isn't around." Jake paused in the middle of his rant to look at them. Gosh, I shouldn't have said that, Jake thought regretting not having the tact to explain himself without hinting one of them was going to have an accident… Because if anything, Michael now not only looked even more suspicious, he also looked to be on the edge of anger, while Max and Isabel looked paler than when they had entered. He wondered if the iceberg that had sunk the Titanic had been as big as this one.

"I've messed up," he finally said, laughing a little at himself. "You know what? I know what you need right now… before you really burn me," he said, this time Max's hands being the ones that retreated into a protective self embrace. "How do you feel about racing?"

"You want us to run?" Isabel asked, the only one whose hands were still in sight. Yet, the three of them frowned at him.

"Sure, but I don't think what you have in mind is what I have in mind…"


	10. Sparks

Thanks again for the reviews! And thanks for coming back to read :D**  
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**X**

**Sparks**

Kyle walked through the corridor feeling as if he were actually trespassing the borders to the _Twilight Zone_. Now that he was reflecting on it, he had had that feeling ever since he had woken up on that tiny blue room no more than two days ago. Gosh! Only two days? And now he was walking as a "free" man? That was almost unbelievable… But as he was so fond of saying:_ No conditions are permanent. No conditions are reliable. Nothing is self. _

He wondered for a brief moment if now was the time to change religions or philosophies again, in order to find a balance in an upside down world. After all, when little green men had invaded his life, Buddhism had been the perfect way –the salvation, really- for his sanity. Now the world had shifted again, had thrown at him unthinkable possibilities, and yet here he was, dealing with it.

He had been surprised back in that summer away from Roswell almost three years ago, about how really good he had been at _dealing_ with it. "It" meaning knowing that not only aliens did exist, but that he had gone to school with three of them for most of his life. He hadn't told a soul, more out of knowing that no one would believe him than to protect the pod squad's secret, but still, the fact remained: Kyle had kept his mouth shut, and had done so ever since, no matter what.

Now he was walking to meet a man who expected him to tell him a great deal about said secret, and that made Kyle feel uncomfortable. It almost made him feel like a traitor. Even if the thought was foolish and very well misplaced, Kyle couldn't help himself. He had gone over in his head all night about what he was supposed to say and what he _wasn't_ supposed to say. The worst part was, according to what they had agreed in a van in the middle of nowhere, everything that they hadn't discussed was supposed to remain as it was. Kyle sighed. Those were a lot of "supposed to's" in one thought…

The good thing was, whatever he said, Kyle would have time later on to brief the others, so they would stick to the same stories. He wondered why Dave hadn't made them all be questioned at the same time, like the police did, so they couldn't put their stories straight. Wasn't Dave expecting them to lie to him? Because Kyle could think of a lot of words to describe Dave, and naïve wasn't one of them. _Calculated_ was, so Kyle suspected that there was a bigger reason for these meetings to take place one a day, with each one of them.

He wished he could know why. He wished too he didn't have to walk all the way up to Dave's office alone. Liz and Maria had stayed at the Gym. The Pod Squad had gone together to the Lab. But poor innocent Kyle had to go –with his dark thoughts following close by- all by himself, while wallowing in doom and gloom. Kyle sighed again, this time trying to find his center, trying to clear his mind. Something he was actually succeeding at until he stepped in front of the elevator that would bring him to the surface, and looked at himself reflected in the metallic doors. A tiny spark caught his eyes around his left hand, so briefly and so elusive, that Kyle wasn't sure if he had actually seen it or if his mind was playing tricks on him.

Was it a blue spark or a green spark? Kyle frenetically thought, as the double doors opened. Because if it had been a blue one, then it could have been just static, right? On the other hand, if it had been green, then… Kyle looked at his much better reflected self in the mirrors inside the elevator that was now going up –way up- and didn't see either blue or green, just plain white. He was white as a paper sheet.

Ever since last November, when his powers had started to show, he had this constant feeling in the tips of his fingers, like a tickle. Very subtle and very _not_ visible at all. Liz had told him that she too felt it. But she was so used to it by then, that she didn't pay attention to it. Kyle had forgotten all about the tickle too, apparently getting used to it as well, when he had stopped glowing in the dark. It hadn't been till their experience in the blue rooms that he had actually remembered the tickling when neither Max, nor Isabel, nor Michael had had their powers. But that tickle had been there, both in Liz's and in his fingertips, assuring them that _their_ powers –or whatever they were at that stage- were still very present.

Right now Kyle wished his powers would skip attendance and desert him… What the hell was he going to do if he started to spark all around Dave's office? Calm yourself down, Kyle said in his mind, closing his eyes, and find your center… oh, and by the way, stop sparkling too… His stomach flinched, and he wasn't sure if he was glad or not for having skipped breakfast earlier. Gosh, he was going to be a nervous mess if he didn't get a grip on himself _ipso facto._

By the time the doors opened Kyle wasn't feeling any better… but at least he wasn't feeling any worse either. That had to count, right? If he kept concentrating on the "good" points and not the "bad" points, he would get himself under control. For a moment he wondered if that was how Max managed to keep that appearance of being calmed and in control 95 percent of the time.

Kyle stepped out of the elevator into the 9 foot corridor that separated said elevator from the main room where they had entered less than two days before –and again, the thought startled him- and started walking. He glanced at his watch, 6:56, clenched his fingers, fidgeted with the cords of his jacket, and passed his hands –both at different times- through his hair before he had reached the doors that separated the corridor from the big living room. The only thing that actually made a ghost of a smile appear on his lips before entering the room was that he hadn't seen any other spark. That had to count for something too, right?

The door had an electronic key, so, remembering what Liz had said about the white cards being keys, he took his out and slid it through the slot. The door opened without a sound, and Kyle found himself staring at the dark blue sofas in the middle of the living room. He wondered if there was a reason for things to be so blue, since the floor in the complex –not to mention their detention cells- had also been blue. However, his eyes left the furniture and turned to his left. A door was open in the middle of the wall, a door he hadn't noticed before.

It was creepy how things could be so damned concealed in this place. First the screens that looked like paintings –or fridge's doors- and now doors that didn't look like doors but parts of walls. Of course, he couldn't forget that he wasn't even sure if this Dave was the _real_ Dave.

"_If he isn't the genuine Dave," Liz had said the night before, after William had gone, "we have to assume he has to be speaking with all his authority, right? This person wouldn't be making deals and setting rules without Dave's permission… One way or another, whoever is making this deal, must be aware of everything that is said about it." Liz had ended, logically and rationally explaining her thoughts, as she usually did._

"_Great," Michael had grunted, finishing the last of his soda, clearly not happy with this situation. _

"_We are forgetting something," Max had cut in, "if this person isn't Dave, then why did I get a flash of him? It wouldn't make sense what I saw…"_

"_It would if this fake Dave is as concerned about us staying here as the real one is…" Isabel had corrected her brother. _

Which had left them right where they had begun: With no clue as to who the hell they were going to meet all week long… not to mention who the hell had they made a deal with.

Leaving his musing behind, Kyle walked straight to the large room that could now be seen. At almost 7:00 a.m. on a February morning, there wasn't much light coming from the huge windows. The room, however, was well lit up with white light coming from a very high placed lamp in the ceiling. Kyle stood in front of the door frame, unsure of what to do. In the middle of the room was a huge –and he meant _huge-_ black wood desk, that had been cleared of everything but one thing: A puzzle. Or more likely, hundreds, if not thousands, of puzzle pieces. Dave was sitting at the other end of the desk, with the windows at his back, carefully selecting pieces here and there. It seemed to Kyle as if Dave were completely absorbed in this task and had equally completely forgotten about his appointment. His fingertips started to tickle, and Kyle's sudden movement to place them –_conceal_ them- inside his jacket pockets seemed to get Dave's attention.

And before that awful interrogation started –because who was he kidding? _Appointment_? Sure…- Kyle prayed to all the High Powers that he could remember everything there was to remember. He just really hoped he wasn't going to blow this up, not in a figurative way and most certainly not in a _literal_ way.

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Dave would have laughed at that instant if he had known that he had thought exactly the same thing that Jake did when his appointment arrived: Kyle looked as if he was just minutes away from fainting. The difference was that Dave didn't actually say it aloud.

"Come in," Dave told Kyle, discretely looking at his watch. Years of being with Jake had made him, too, start to count things. Luckily for him, he had gotten rid of the habit almost as fast as it had started to sink in, except that he was always counting the seconds for a short time after seeing the hour. Since last time he had checked the hour it had been 6:23:48, he was still counting them in his head. He wasn't expecting Kyle till 7:00 a.m., and –as he already knew- it was 6:57:12.

Kyle entered, uncertain of what to do, so Dave gestured to him to sit down opposite to him.

"Sorry about the mess," he said leaving the puzzle pieces he had been working with at one side, "early birthday present," he quietly added, almost with a guilty expression, as a way of explaining why he was putting a puzzle together in a middle of an interview. Of course, the puzzle had its purpose, but he didn't have to tell that to Kyle, did he? Let's see if they can figure it out.

"You like puzzles?" Kyle asked, clearly seeking a way of starting a conversation. For someone who was probably thinking he was walking into a lion's den –a.k.a. interrogation- he was way too eager to talk.

"I love puzzles," Dave truthfully said, "two dimensional, three dimensional, solid or abstract. I've loved them all since I can remember. Ever since Jake found out, he's always giving me a different puzzle every year. I've been working on this one since 4:00 this morning. They are addictive you know?"

"¿_4:00 a.m_.?" Kyle said incredulous. That's it, Kyle, think this is a normal conversation within normal circumstances… it's the only way you are going to be honest with me. Or as honest as you're gonna get with me.

"I never really sleep much. Besides, it's a 15,000 pieces puzzle, so if I want to finish it before I have to leave the complex, I'd better hurry up."

"What is it about?" Kyle said leaning forward to see a group of pieces, trying to decipher the entire picture by only having less than 15 parts. Welcome to my world, Dave silently thought.

"A desert storm. I've already memorized the picture so I don't have to go back at it every minute. And speaking of that," Dave said as if it wasn't a big deal –which really wasn't for him- he took one piece and placed it randomly at his left, "this room has no recording devices in it. Everything you say will stay between you, me, and this puzzle."

Kyle stopped looking at the pieces and looked straight at him, almost as if saying: _Is that supposed to make me feel better?_

"So, Kyle," Dave continued with his pieces search, being the first to quit the staring contest. Really, there was no point in sending the unspoken message that Dave was the one who had the upper hand here, if only by making Kyle lower his eyes first. Trust wasn't built by competition. Fitting two pieces together, Dave looked at Kyle again as casually as he could master. He was about to ask something to which he wanted to see Kyle's reaction.

"You know, you kids are a puzzle as well. That's why I'm so intrigued with you." Kyle kept silent, his hands in his pockets for all Dave could tell, clearly uncertain of what to do or say. "But you know, there are some things that intrigue me more than others, and that's where I hope to find answers. Like, you know, why are you traveling with them?" Dave fitted a third piece into his other two, but leveled his eyes just in time to catch Kyle's reaction.

Kyle was surprised. If Dave had been able to read minds, he would have read something along the lines _why the hell didn't we think about that? _and would have proceeded to see a cascade of events, starting with a bullet wound and a glowing hand, culminating with a green spark in front of an elevator. But of course, Dave was only human, and an _unchanged _one, for that matter, so all he could see was Kyle lowering his eyes to no point in particular of the black wood desk, clearly trying to figure out how best to answer this.

The question was legitimate. Dave had some ideas and theories as to why Kyle Valenti was riding with the other five teenagers who had "legitimate" reasons to be on the road. That was why he had picked Kyle to be the first, too. Whatever the reason, Kyle was the biggest outsider of this group, so Kyle would give him the bases to seek what he needed to know from each one of them. In this puzzle, Kyle was the outer limit, the frame that was supposed to be always put together first. Oh yeah, Dave just plain loved puzzles.

"Max saved my life," Kyle said, still his eyes unseeing, almost as if he were lost in a moment years behind. Dave stopped looking for the fourth piece to join the other three.

"How?" He simply asked, frowning a little, looking at Kyle in the eyes again. This hadn't been in his ideas or theories, not really.

"It's a pretty long story," Kyle said, bringing his eyesight to the present, for the first time putting his hands over the desk. Dave noticed too that color was returning to Kyle's skin. Whatever was crossing the nineteen year old's mind, it was clear that he was more than fine with it. "But the main thing you should know is that, you are searching for aliens, and there are none in this story… not in this group, anyway. Max… Isabel and Michael… they are not aliens, and you should not think of them like that. Hell, they are more human than half the people who _are_ in this story." Kyle emphasized pointing at him, trying to make his point as clear as he could.

"Well Kyle, you said it is a long story, and this is a very big puzzle. I think there's time." Dave said smiling, leaning back in his chair. He knew he was going to like these interviews, not only because they would give him the other pieces he needed in order to understand his… _guests,_ but because he was going to get to know them and how they viewed themselves and each other in this tight little group of theirs.

When Kyle had started with the fact that he and Liz had been dating for a while before Max had saved Liz's life, Dave had frowned even more deeply than the first time around. He already knew they had dated, of course, but hearing Kyle saying it as the first thing seemed odd to him. And since Dave had never been a good listener without having something else to do with his hands, by the time Kyle had reached the part where he had finally decided to make peace with Max because of some radio contest, Dave had already put together all the bottom line of his puzzle.

He paid particular attention to the fact that Max _could_ get drunk, and also knew that Jake would get wide-eyed and start on a rant about bio-chemistry or something of the sort. Sure, Dave had the brains for knowing such things, but he just wasn't all that interested. His strength lay in numbers, in abstract concepts, not in cells, and neurons, and proteins. That was why he and Jake could work so perfectly well: They both complemented each other's strengths.

"And all that time I was in the dark," Kyle continued, finally joining him in trying to put two pieces together, failing miserably at it, "so I was always thinking that Max and their group were involved in pretty bad stuff. I mean, Dad was seriously obsessed with him, until the whole Hubble incident, where that wacko almost killed Max."

_Hubble_. Dave's brain made a quick review. An alien hunter. A shooting. Something that would come a year later to haunt former Sheriff Valenti. But alien hunters and shootings weren't part of Kyle's "expertise". This was something Dave had to investigate directly from the source: _That wacko almost killed Max._ So Max must knew something about it… And Kyle had been right, this was indeed a long story, and at no point could Dave decipher where the dark haired boy had saved Kyle's life. How had Kyle gotten involved in all this?

So, for another half an hour, Kyle continued, this time bringing Tess. Tess was _the_ mystery in this whole mess. She wasn't just "a" piece, she was like a quarter of the whole 15,000 pieces puzzle. They barely had information about her, about her disappearance and much less about her returning home. Tess was a subject he would actually raise with each one of them, because he knew that was the only way he was going to get a somewhat clear picture of the fourth hybrid. Or so he hoped.

In that same half hour, Kyle efficiently pointed out how, even if he had been in the dark right then, the Special Unit had finally made their move. How Nasedo, the _real_ shapeshifter, as Kyle had emphasized, had also made his move, endangering Liz's life and, by extension, the whole group's survival.

"And they got him, they got Max," Kyle said, putting aside his pieces, clearly attempting to sound as serious as he could. Dave also left his "distraction" aside and looked at Kyle. Dave knew what was next with this part. And he hated it. For more reasons than any of them –except maybe Max himself- could have.

"He never talks about it," Kyle said lowering his voice, making Dave feel as if Kyle was telling him this as some sort of confidence. Just between Kyle, Dave and the puzzle. "I know he has never told Liz about it either, and the most that I have ever talked to him about it was when he said as a non-comment that he had learned to control his dreams in order to be able to sleep."

That had gotten Dave's attention in an instant.

"He controls them?"

"He said so…" Kyle said, looking as if he'd rather not have mentioned that.

"No, no, I know few people can do that, but… Max is already the controlling type, isn't he? You would believe he could at least lose it in dreams…"

"You would believe there aren't such hells as the one Max went through. No reasons at all to control one's dreams." Kyle's voice sounded cold this time. He was actually defending his friend in a very subtle way. So Dave finally got Kyle's point for his very long story –one that wasn't finished yet, by the way. He had told him all about Max's shyness, and Max's jealousy and Max's suffering that made him so… human. And even if that was the main point, he hadn't left the others outside either, pointing out as well how lost they had been that first years after sharing their secret. Of course Kyle had had the most trouble with Max, who had "kidnapped" Liz from his side, turned his dad into a stalker and without wanting it, dragging him, ultimately, into a life on the roads.

"You see," Kyle proceeded, "I was one of those who thought the worst about Max Evans and I didn't even factor in that he was half alien. Hell, I was probably the only one who actually had the _right_ reasons to not like him, and yet I do now. But for what Isabel once told me on one of our road trips, what she _thought_ Pierce did to Max gave _her_ nightmares, and all Pierce had was all these false conclusions about Max because he happened to have the wrong set of genes. So, I don't know what you think about Max or Michael or Isabel, but don't do that, okay?"

"Don't jump to conclusions?" Dave said, amused at Kyle's semi-explosion. "I think that's why I'm actually hearing you all out, don't you think? Get to know you, and kind of like you for all the _right_ reasons. But you haven't told me yet, how did you get involved in all of this? Directly and knowingly, I mean"

So, in _another_ half an hour, with as much detail as Kyle could remember, he finally got around to answering Dave's second question: How had Max Evans saved Kyle's life. "Let me see if I've got this straight," Dave had said, leaning over the desk, looking straight at him, "Max saved you and you felt indebted to him for the rest of your natural life? That's just it?" Sure, he had read that a lot in novels, but it had hardly happened in real life. No one stayed with another person just because of that sole incident. There had to be other reasons, other conveniences, for that matter. At least, that was how Dave thought of it.

"Hell, that's so not _just_ it," Kyle said, taking a sip of the second soda that Dave had giving him like an hour before. "That's how things started out for me. But Max saving my life, and the fact that he was, well, you know… an alien… that changed me. That's why I went on the road with them. I do owe _him_, but not just Max. They became my family."

Before his watch marked 11:00 a.m. Dave had heard pretty much all about how Kyle had ended up considering them family, and how a blonde's treachery had felt like a sister's betrayal. A sister who had returned, just to lose a son. Oh, did Dave want to know about _that._ But this, again, wasn't Kyle's subject to talk about. Dave wasn't even sure of how he was going to address this particular part to Max, but he was sure that his off-the-chart IQ would figure out something by Saturday morning.

"When we gathered outside in the desert, it was just clear to me," Kyle said, trying to put two pieces together, again, and this time actually succeeding at it. By now he had half the line of the upper frame. "There was nothing for me in Roswell. No life, no future to pursue. No future I liked, anyway. And Alex had been right that day at the cave: I _am_ part of something _amazing._ I mean, isn't that what intrigued you in the first place?" Dave stopped in midair, totally forgetting he had finally found the piece he had been looking for, and for one moment he felt somehow busted. Still, years of practice paid off, because all Kyle would perceive was a mildly amused expression.

"What do you mean?" Dave asked with a small frown, his tone even.

"Why you want them, why you are protecting them, in this twisted way of yours. You want to be part of it, don't you?" Kyle said with expectation in his eyes, almost as if he had finally figured out Dave's real motives.

Dave smiled, lowering his eyes to the desk, placing the puzzle piece with another one, trying to look as if he had actually been busted. "Well… that's why I didn't come earlier into the picture, if you like. I didn't want to shatter the illusion of that _amazing_ life." It was Kyle's turn to frown.

"I thought you said you didn't know what to do with them back then…"

"I also said I was watching them to try to figure them out. You are right, Kyle, this knowledge _is_ amazing. What you know, what you've _lived_ is something terribly unique. And I know one or two things about being unique… and about being caged… They were already unique, and I guess part of me just wanted to see them free. That was, of course, after they acted like your ordinary teenagers with your ordinary trouble…"

"You would have come for them earlier otherwise? Like Pierce did?" Kyle asked, forgetting all about his pieces and staring into Dave's eyes. They say that the best way to catch a liar is to see into their eyes, but that didn't quite apply to Dave. He had mastered the art of lying since he was seven. So Kyle trying to see if he was lying or not was a futile act, although Dave wasn't going to take Kyle's hope away. So he kept his eyes pinned to Kyle's.

"Maybe. I don't know. Circumstances are always changing. But you have to factor in, Kyle, that by the time I finally found the truth about Max, he had healed children. Alien invaders would have not taken such… risk. Still, I think we both felt the same thing about them: They are just trying to have a life."

"If you already know that, why are you doing this? Why are you so interested in their lives?" Kyle asked in an upsetting tone, almost outraged. Why was Dave messing with them?

Dave shrugged. "Wouldn't you want to know the whole story of those who are living that amazing life? Six billion people out there don't have a clue about this. Who knows, Kyle, maybe in six thousand years our names are going to be part of history too. But that's not the main thing. Human, alien, hybrid, whatever, the six of you are now under my wing, but you are also getting to know things that same six billion people out there don't know about me. I have to make sure I know everything about who I am dealing with."

"What if you decide we are too much of a risk?" Kyle asked cautiously, clearly considering every single word he had said since 7:00 a.m.

"Kyle, if you were that much of a risk, you wouldn't be here," Dave answered smiling.

"Or maybe, we wouldn't be talking to you, right?" There was something odd about the way Kyle had said that, almost with a sarcastic undertone. What was Kyle aiming for? And then it hit him.

"You've met Jeremy," Dave said leaning back in his chair, this time smiling more broadly. "Ray told me yesterday, that's true. I bet you are wondering just about now who _you_ are dealing with, uh? Am I the genuine article?" Dave leaned over his desk, lowering his voice to just above a whisper. He wasn't exactly the theatrical type, but he enjoyed the suspense. "Let me tell you a little secret, Kyle: I've been having this chase, this mouse-cat chase ever since I started to work with Network Keepers. They love it, I like it, and it spreads one hell of a lot of rumors about me that I gladly encourage. When you talk to Jeremy next week, he'll tell you he has _confirmed_ visual contact with the mythical Dave in six other places over three different continents. Trust me, I'll make sure of it."

Straightening himself up in his chair, Dave continued talking, now with a clear tone. "But even if neither of you believe I'm the real Dave, trust that my words are real. I never fool around with that. _Never. _And none of my other representatives would. You think you have a tight deal? You don't want to know what kind of deal they have."

Kyle didn't move a muscle, staring at Dave, obviously surprised at this little outburst of confidentiality. But it was all calculated, really. There were things they had to know and others they had to suspect. And of course, there were _others_ that would remain in the dark for quite a while. Dave knew that by keeping them close by here – or anywhere, for that matter- rumors about who he was and what he looked like and all sorts of stupid theories would sooner or later reach their ears. He couldn't afford them looking too closely into his profile; that they would go investigating just to clear out the mist that surrounded his person. So a little bit of the truth would have to be enough to sustain their curiosity. Jeremy and any Network Keeper could go around with their theories, and the kids would still be all right. After all, he was making them part of the "big" secret, wasn't he?

Dave stood up in order to reach a far away piece, leaving his musings about truths and omissions aside. "Do you miss Roswell, Kyle?"

Kyle had been staring at him, clearly lost in thought about Dave's last words, which coincidentally matched Liz's earlier words, though Dave wasn't aware of that. Snapping out of it, Kyle focused again on finding the next piece in his ever growing line.

"Of course I do. I've missed Dad every single day since we left."

"You miss your home town even if you don't have a future there?"

"It doesn't mean I don't have a past there," Kyle defensively answered.

Dave lifted both hands in a gesture of peace. "Sorry, my bad. Anyway, what were they like? You know, when you were all kids…"

Kyle's stomach growled before a word could leave his mouth. Kyle looked slightly embarrassed as he was placing a piece next to another, trying to ignore his hunger. Dave looked at his watch, absently saying: "I keep forgetting you kids don't eat," clearly remembering how Liz and Maria's stomachs had cut him out two days before. It was 11:27:13 a.m. by then, and Dave's stomach also protested for the lack of food since 6:00 a.m. He had just completely forgotten to eat, a problem that had given him some serious trouble about ten years ago. Still, on occasions like this one –not only hearing a story he had wanted to hear for two years now, but putting this puzzle together as well- he kept forgetting to eat at proper hours.

"I hope you like sandwiches, because that's all I have up here," Dave told Kyle, going to one side of the concealed office. Just like Jake had his mini fridge and mini cupboard, so did Dave. It was funny, he thought, because the main reason for all of this being here was because of his older friend. Jake was always grabbing food everywhere.

When Dave had offered Kyle a soda some two hours ago and another one an hour after that, Kyle had accepted but had also stayed seated on his side of the desk. This time his guest actually stood up, a little bit hesitantly, but clearly going to see what kind of sandwiches was Dave talking about.

"Anything without red meat would do," Kyle said as Dave was rummaging through the four or five submarine kind of sandwiches stocked in there. Dave made a mental note about cleaning up this place before his departure on Saturday night.

"Tuna?" Dave offered, raising an eyebrow to Kyle.

"Sure. You have any more sodas in there?" Kyle asked while taking the large tuna submarine out of Dave's hand.

"Diet Coke?"

"I'm not _that_ healthy," Kyle said grinning, Dave turning around to fetch him a non diet soda, and getting himself the other tuna sandwich in there. Luckily for Dave, both Ray and Jake despised the fish-kind sandwiches, so usually those were always available.

Both men remained standing, leaning over the wood cupboard that occupied the whole length of the wall. Even in this interlude, part of Dave's mind was mentally placing pieces together. He knew he was going to do that all week long too. He had put way too many puzzles together in his life to not know it.

"What does that mean?" Kyle asked staring at the opposite wall. A 9 feet by 9 feet square was hanging there. A 16 x 16 math matrix was neatly written on it. The 16 rows and 16 columns of black numbers didn't quiet look fashionable, or even remotely like a decoration in there. Probably the only place where they would actually fit as decoration would be at a math laboratory or some eminence math whiz's office... oh yeah, he was a math whiz and this was his office too… Shrugging more to himself than to Kyle, Dave simply replied: "Decoration."

Kyle's lack of understanding didn't make Dave want to extend on his explanation. "So, how were you all at the age of 7? Did you think you were all going to grow into the almost adults you are now?"

The once athlete of the month at West Roswell High School actually laughed at Dave's question. "You mean if I thought I would become a Buddhist cracking jokes at the Ice Princess? That answer is easy: Not a snowball's chance in hell." Kyle sipped his soda, and placing it over the wood surface, took on a more serious note. "None of us had a clue that we would end up together… and certainly if we had, we wouldn't have thought it would be like _this._" Kyle ended, emphasizing the last word. There wasn't regret in his words, not really, just a little twinge of resignation, Dave guessed. It was the voice of a man who had come to terms with his reality and had accepted it, even trying to make the best of it. A voice Dave often heard in Jake's words, and just as many times in his own words.

"I've known Liz since the first grade in Elementary School, though we didn't become friends till freshman year," Kyle continued, oblivious to Dave's insights, clearly more comfortably now than just four and half hours ago. "And Maria came into the picture the next year. Max, Isabel and Michael arrived in the third year, if I remember correctly. Alex a year after."

"They were already together by then? The three of them?"

"No… I think Max and Isabel met with Michael _till_ then. I believe Max and Isabel used to go to an Elementary school close by Goddard High until their parents moved to their new house. That's how they ended up with us. I've never heard Michael's story, but Michael is not exactly the let's-talk-about-my-past kind of guy, you know?"

Oh, did Dave know about that. He had had a really hard time factoring Michael into everything, because not only wasn't there much to piece together about Michael's past, and Michael's life in general, but because Michael himself could be really unpredictable. Still, Dave only nodded his understanding to Kyle while biting his tuna sandwich, Kyle doing so himself.

"They were a strange trio…" Kyle reflected, his eyes lost in some distant memory. "I mean, Maria and Liz were instant friends in the second year. You couldn't see one without the other, and it was cool, you know? Best friends and all. But with the pod squad…" Even if Kyle wasn't looking, Dave arched both eyebrows at Kyle's pet name of the "strange trio". It was pretty amusing.

"They weren't instant best friends?" Dave inquired after Kyle's silence had prolonged a little bit too much, clearly seeking the right words.

"No, it wasn't that, it was that they were too tight, you know? Too protective and always so intense. You couldn't say a thing about Michael without Isabel giving you one of her patented ice glares. And you really didn't want to have Isabel pissed off at you, for some reason… Of course, Michael himself was a problem you didn't want to bring upon yourself either. And then there was Max… the quiet type…" Kyle said, still lost in thought, somehow finding his last statement curious.

Dave had researched everything there was to know about their school years, both in elementary school and high school, but grades, gossips, and teachers' musings didn't exactly make a complete picture. _This_ was the first hand information he needed to put these pieces together. What would it be like to look for trouble with aliens? Or to stay out of it if you were one…

"You never messed with them? Or one of your friends?"

"I was never the mean kind of kid… but sure there were others. Except that… Max and Michael were pretty much untouchable. Michael for the obvious reasons. You picked a fight with him, you were sure going to suffer something back, and it wasn't going to be nice. You could see it in his eyes. And well, they were always together, so picking on Max meant picking on Michael as well… but still… even if Max had been alone, he had this, I don't know, this _presence_ I guess. Kids sense that, you know? I bet if Max had gotten into trouble he would have been perfectly able to fight back." Kyle ended up, shrugging.

It was hard to picture a little Max fighting back, though he had no problem envisioning a little Michael in the same act. The fact that Max's fight record was zero and Michael's was high on the scale did help a lot in that insight.

"And Isabel was the 'Ice Princess'," Dave pressed, not wanting Kyle to stop recalling the oh so important past.

"I don't know who came up with the term, but she had earned it by freshman year, I assure you. The way she looked at you when she didn't approve of what you were doing… that was cold… But what was glacial was if anyone, and I mean _anyone_ picked on either Max or Michael, as I have already told you. The three of them are so protective of themselves. They have always stuck with each other no matter what…" Kyle trailed off, giving Dave the sensation that Kyle wasn't saying everything there was to say, or that he wasn't being exactly accurate with his last words. Still, Dave let it pass. Others would fill in the gaps.

"And you know what?" Kyle said turning to look at him, his submarine half forgotten in his left hand, "when we became part of their tight little circle, we also became protective of them."

"I understand that…" Dave said lowering his hand to get his soda.

"No, no, I'm not just _saying_ it. Don't take this wrong, but if you harm them don't think that your problems would be over with us."

"That I also know, Kyle. And I also respect it. Don't think this is just about the three of them. You three are a major factor in their lives, and main pieces in the puzzle." Kyle just looked at him with a slight suspiciousness in his eyes. Dave guessed that Kyle knew, just as well as he did, that there was not much they could actually do against Dave, or against the Special Unit or against whoever or whatever came after the 'pod squad', but still they would try. And the man who had offered a chance at a normal life _did_ respect that.

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Liz kept staring at the clock on the wall, making Maria's anxiousness go sky high. Maria wanted to pull up a chair, stand on it, grab the damned thing, and smash it into the carpeted floor if only to make sure Liz would just stop looking at it. Oh, and the wristwatch would have to go as well. Ray seemed to sense Maria's despair –maybe be actually sharing it- because he smiled at her with a small, sympathetic gesture of his mouth, returning his gaze to the small brunette. Liz's eyes finally left the clock and focused on Ray's.

"It's midday, can we go now?" Liz asked half pleading, half demanding. Ray just arched his eyebrows, mildly amused at Liz's boldness. She hadn't exactly been snapping at Ray all morning –which Maria would had sworn was going to happen when they had arrived earlier- but hadn't exactly been paying attention either. She had been, well, _absent._

"You are free to go," Ray said with mock seriousness, almost as if he were a teacher dismissing his class. Liz didn't need to hear it twice, and immediately headed for the showers. For one instant there, Maria had thought Liz would just simply go straight out of the Gym area and into the Cafeteria, where they had all agreed to meet. Of course, if Max and the others weren't there –well, if _Max_ wasn't there- Liz probably would just pass by the Cafeteria and head directly to a Lab labeled 2 – 00 – 22, two blocks far away and two floors below this one. God knew the girl had clearance for it. But Liz knew, just like Maria knew, that they both needed a shower.

"I hope you had had a good time…" Ray tentatively said, reaching for Maria's towel and handing it over.

"I'm sure tomorrow will be better…" Maria said with a sigh, starting to move towards the showers. Then, thinking better of it, she turned around and faced Ray. "I mean, you do realize that… we're just… it wasn't… I mean…" closing her eyes in desperation for her loss of words, Maria finally managed to say, "We'll get better at this thing." Ray just nodded in understanding, so Maria turned again and walked to the showers.

They _could_ have had a good time if it weren't for the circumstances, Maria thought. And she hoped too that Ray knew that. Sure, since they had arrived Maria hadn't thought of the older man as anything but their jailer, potential spy, and perpetual stalker, but things had gone pretty smoothly the whole morning. Of course, that didn't mean that Maria was now thinking about Ray without the latter adjectives, but at least there were some things written on the "good" side of the list. Like patience.

Liz and Maria had been the first ones to arrive at their designated places, watching as everybody continued walking to the Cafeteria where three of them would go north and the remaining Kyle would go west. The schedule hadn't said how long they would have to be there, because the afternoon schedules all started at 3:00 p.m. Which meant that somewhere between the morning 'appointments' and the afternoon ones they were supposed to lunch. Or at least that's what they hoped. But that also meant that some of them could go earlier than others. So that had been when they had decided to wait at the Cafeteria.

As strange as it was, Maria had been the one remaining logical and over-all right with the circumstances when Liz had pretty much hugged herself while watching Max go, almost as if her husband was going to war and not coming back for months, maybe years. She had hugged Liz then with one arm, trying to comfort her while turning them both into the Gym.

"_Come on, Lizzie. You know they _have_ to treat them right." Maria had said, trying to knock some sense into her in a nice way._

"_How can you know?" Liz had answered back in a whisper._

"_Because this is business," Maria had said matter of factly. "They respect their part of the deal, we respect our part of the deal, and both parties are happy. Besides, do you seriously believe they would screw with us on the _first_ day?"_

"_That doesn't make me feel better," Liz had said, looking her friend in the eyes. Still, she had loosened up a little, even if she was chewing on her lower lip._

Ray had met with them then. He had showed them around the whole Gym complex, saying something about it was a pity that Kyle wasn't there because they would have to do this again the next day. Judging by Liz's complete lack of attention, Maria had judged that it was probably going to be a good thing too. The Gym was a very large space, with probably more than 100 machines, though she doubted that they were all in use at the same time. Around fifteen people were in the place besides them.

There was a schedule on one of the walls where various different types of classes were appointed. Both girls had stared at it, hardly believing that at some point that day there were going to be classes from dancing to self protection to yoga. Ray had stopped to look at the schedule, trying to decipher what was different on it, until he had noticed that it was the first time the girls were seeing it.

"_You bring in aerobics teachers?" Maria had asked in disbelief, wondering what kind of deal an aerobic teacher could make. Ray had laughed hard at that one._

"_They are not _exclusively _aerobics teachers," he had said, still chuckling, "they have other assignments, of course, but they volunteer to have these programs. The salsa classes are very popular within our single's circle under thirty on Friday nights."_

_Both girls had still seemed unconvinced. Who would volunteer to give classes? And that aside, who would take salsa classes 100 feet below the surface?_

"_It helps with the neighbors' relationships thing and to take the stress of work out. Especially since, as you know, you can't go outside. You have to find ways of occupying your time outside your lab and your apartment. Some people teach classes, some take them. Nothing formal, no fee at the end of the month… You can participate too, you know? If anything interests you, come around the time of the class and ask around. You'll get to meet a lot of people that way too._

Well, the dance classes were pretty much out of the question since Michael had already been pronounced 'unteachable', but there might be some other things of interest… especially after they had settled down and started to get a hold of the daily stuff. Sure enough, sooner or later, they were going to get bored of staying at 'home', being paranoid all the time. It might even prove itself as a good way of getting information as well…

After that, Ray had started to talk about the routines they could go on. Starting easy, as he had said, at which Maria had looked at him skeptically. In her book gym equaled to pain, getting up early, more pain, sweat, still even more pain, discipline and, oh yeah, pain all over your body not only for the entire day, but for the entire _week_. She had tried it twice about four years back, as in a let's-meet-guys kind of thing, uh-uh. She was the healthy type, just not _that_ healthy. She had practically had to drag herself out of bed that morning, a prospect that didn't light her days in the future, either. Liz, of course, had been totally out of it, not giving a damn about what Ray was talking about. She was way too focused on trying to decipher what was happening to Max and the others to care what was happening on this side of her connection.

Maria and Ray had sighed in unison. Both out of resignation, she guessed, but they both had smiled at each other in a conspiratorial kind of way.

"_Or we can go sky diving if you want. What do you think Liz?" Ray had said mischievously._

"_Yeah, fine. If Maria wants to go sky diving—" Liz re-focused her eyes onto Ray's face. "What?" She asked, thinking she had obviously missed something. Ray just smiled, a little bit embarrassed. _

"_You can call Jake's Lab if you want," he offered, gesturing with his head to a phone on a desk in the entry that no one was using. Liz's eyes glistened for a second, and then, as fast as it had happened, she lost the brilliance. "No… I'll just… I'll just wait…" Liz truly had looked appalled, and Maria's heart went out to her. "Did you say something about warming up?" Liz had said back, no trace of humor in her voice. _

So they had started to warm up before doing any exercise, something that reminded Maria how much "out of shape" she really was. God, if this is hurting now and it's just warming up, Maria had thought back then, I really don't want to know what I am going to feel tonight… And okay, they had _started_, that didn't mean they had _finished_ though.

While Ray had gone to say hi to some guys, Liz had suddenly sat down on a cube out of the floor. Those were everywhere, and both girls had guessed they were for you to sit down. Liz had placed her face between her hands, seriously freaking Maria out.

"_Is something wrong?" Maria had asked against her latest affirmation that things couldn't go wrong at all._

"_I don't know. Or Max is really good at blocking me out today… or… or…"_

"_Or maybe he's just fine and he's letting you know exactly that." Maria had finished, Ray just two steps behind her, worry in his face._

"_Is everything okay?"_

Liz had barely nodded, and had remained pretty quiet for the next hour. Ray had glanced at Maria with worried looks, which Maria had kept dismissing. Looking back at this day, Maria was thinking as she had finally reached the showers, she was tremendously glad Michael _could _effectively block her. He had been doing so all day long –hell, all night long too- and Maria was just… resigned to the fact. She couldn't get angry with him, and she certainly couldn't make him open up to her, so, what was there to do?

But Liz had been so focused on picking up something wrong, anything at all, that she had pretty much gone to limbo leaving her behind. It had sucked big time, but part of her understood Liz. If Maria had been able to feel Michael, she would probably have done the same thing. And she had to admit that part of her was relieved that Liz wasn't picking up anything out of the ordinary. It reassured her that her theory about how to do business was right.

She could understand why the pod squad was terrified of going to the lab to some degree, and why the six of them were at the edge of paranoia at all times, but it was just so obvious to her that things couldn't go astray right now. Maybe it was a female instinct or something, she didn't know, but she was certain that if things would actually go wrong, they wouldn't be going wrong for everyone to see in plain light. Uh-uh, if Dave wanted something from them, he was the kind of man who would get it in a very subtle way, not letting anyone know till it was too late. If he wanted Michael to blow up a military base, he would probably not tell Michael it was a military base to begin with, and conceal the whole thing as training. That was how Maria envisioned it. Dave would certainly lie to them, anyone would lie to them, manipulate them, whatever, but no one would come up front and threaten them. Fear was very effective, but it also required a greater degree of control over them. And besides, there were better ways to get them to do whatever Dave wanted. Maria knew it, and she guessed they all did, but still the fear was there. Maybe tomorrow things would be better, as she had told Ray a couple of minutes before, because by then they would have had their first experience with this day.

Entering the shower room, Maria saw Liz splashing some water on her face in front of a mirror. She looked tired, not that Maria felt any more energetic.

"Sensing anything at all?"

"Nothing out of the ordinary," Liz said watching Maria in the mirror's reflection. "After 7:30 everything has been pretty… smooth. At times there I could actually think he was having a good time…" Liz said turning around. By the way she had said it, Maria would have sworn Liz had meant the total opposite to "good time".

"So, why the long face? He's fine, you're fine, hopefully Space Boy's fine too. We are going to lunch and get to know what happened to all of us on this absurdly long Monday, okay?"

Liz actually managed a small smile at her friend. "You are right, I'm acting stupidly…"

"Nah, you are just worried. I bet Max was checking in on you the whole time. Wondering if we were being taken hostages or something…"

Liz nodded with a little bit of enthusiasm this time, looking forward to meeting with Max of course. "We really need a shower," Liz pointed out, wrinkling her nose, so both girls went into a hot, refreshing bath. Each shower was individual and private, and each one had its own soap and shampoo too. For a whole minute, Maria made herself believe she was having a vacation in some fancy hotel in the Bahamas. Great Gym, great shower, and great buffet in about ten minutes. Yep, in her book, that was what vacations were all about. Well, the gym might be a little bit of a stretch.

Her best friend in the world was already out and dressing herself by the time Maria went back to reality. Well, at least reality did come with gym, shower and buffet, she reflected. One of the many commodities the place had was that there were pants and sweaters to put on. Ray had said that sometimes people came straight from work without their gym clothes, so they could use these and return them later on. These clothes were also in five different colors: Yellow, red, black, purple and the ever present blue. Since there wasn't white, the girls assumed it wasn't the same color code that the cards hanging from their necks had. When Maria had first seen them she had almost expected that the sweaters said "Dave's property" or just "Dave" alone both on the front and the back. But there was nothing written on them. Not even the _Speedo_ logo.

By the corner of her eyes, Maria caught Liz staring at her hand, stretching it and slowly making it into a fist. What was Liz doing?

"What's wrong?" She asked, wondering for an instant if Liz was actually sensing something not right… or even worse: Was Liz starting to spark again!

"We did hit those things pretty hard, didn't we?" Liz asked with an amused tone, almost laughing, without taking her eyes off her hand, effectively dismissing Maria's fears.

"_I know what you girls need," Ray had said around 9:00 a.m. when Liz had looked at the wall clock like a million times already, barely jogging on the running machine. Maria was running right beside her, somehow feeling less stressed out now that she was actually exercising. Maybe it wasn't a myth that running took all your worries away. Both girls had stopped, expecting Ray's "great" idea of what they needed. _

"_Well, I'm not sure if it will work for you, but when I'm anxious, I hit the sacks" Ray had said, trying to sound reassuring._

"_Hey, get me Michael and I'll hit him all right," Maria had joked back, desperately trying to lighten up Liz's mood. Liz had looked unconvinced, indeed, but she had only shrugged in an indifferent way. Ray had gone for the boxing gloves and forty minutes later, he had been proven to be right. Liz had started first, slowly, but since Ray had kept encouraging her, she had taken strength with every hit. By the time the not so fragile brunette had stopped, both of Ray's eyebrows were arched._

"_A little anger management?" he had commented at the way Liz had hit that hanging sand sack, whatever it was called, sweat running down Liz's face._

"_At what time can we go?" she had asked, totally ignoring Ray's comment, passing a hand-in-a-boxing glove over her front, trying to take some hair strands off her face._

"_Midday sounds like a good hour," Maria had said before Ray opened his mouth. If they were meeting to lunch, Maria didn't want to be in the Cafeteria since 10:00 a.m., especially with Liz in the mood that she was right now._

"_Fine," Liz had said, in an indistinct tone, turning around, going to take some water._

"_You wanna try?" Ray had asked Maria then, his eyes not quiet concealing how astonished he was at Liz's display of energy. Or had it been fury?_

_So Maria had started, joking about Michael being a much better punching bag than this one, until Ray had cut her off._

"_Is she really feeling him?" He had asked above a whisper, while Liz took her gloves off and went for a towel. It had been Maria's turn to arch her eyebrows._

"_What, you don't know?" she had skeptically asked him. Ray had shaken his head, curiosity evidently winning some inner battle about not wanting to intrude._

"_Sure she can. And Max can feel her back. Well, not like she knows what he's thinking or anything like that," Maria had explained in more detail when she had seen Ray's eyes widen. "I thought you knew all there is to know about us."_

"_Dave and Jake probably do. I just knew everything there was to know in order to trap you."_

"_Oh, that's nice," Maria had said, punching the sack hard. Now she was getting to know why Liz had so fiercely attacked the poor innocent thing. It felt _good_ to punch something pretending it was something else… or _someone_ else. Suddenly her punching had begun gaining strength as well, as everything that had happened to her in the last year had started to come back. _

"We did hit that thing hard," Maria agreed with Liz, now both leaving the shower room, feeling fresh, if not exactly renewed. Her shoulders and arms hurt _a lot_, and her legs weren't that far from aching either. "With a little luck, we'll be able to find a pharmacy around here and have some analgesics before we collapse…"

Liz passed her right hand over her left shoulder, wincing a little. "You know Maria, that's the best thing I've heard all day long."


	11. Exchanging Notes

**XI**

**Exchanging Notes**

Jake looked at his watch as the door was closing itself behind Michael's back. It was 12:14 p.m. and he had a call to make. Dave answered six seconds later.

"You alone?" Jake asked, opening his _Apple ibook_, placing the cell phone between his jaw and his right shoulder, waiting for the thing to start up.

"Sure, Kyle's just left. How did it go?" Dave asked, genuine curiosity in his voice, even expectation.

"Their schedule, change it. Give them the afternoon free." Jake said, his fingers eager to start typing the first words of his report.

"They have a schedule for a reason, Jake. You know that." Dave sounded a little bit irritated in the other side of the conversation.

"So what? What are you? A _Virgo_ who can't live without following a schedule at all times? They need to get rid of this stress. Re-arrange the appointments. I don't care how, but give them this time free." Jake said frowning, the OS Mac system finally kicking in. He loved Dave like a little brother, but he would never put the welfare of his patients –even if the three people who had left weren't exactly his _patients _in the whole sense of the word- before anything or anyone else. Later they would discuss how it had gone, but right now, he needed to be sure the kids were going to have enough space.

"I'll tell you what," Dave said after a short pause, clearly considering his options. "I'll tell them to go shopping this afternoon instead of doing so on Thursday."

"Somehow," Jake said smiling, "I doubt the boys will see that as a stress-escape, but okay. That might do it."

_------------------------------------------------_

To say that Max and Liz hugged as if they hadn't seen each other for a month when they _finally_ saw each other would be an understatement. To say that each other felt as if life were returning to their respective bodies would be almost accurate. But to say that the "dark haired couple" separated just seconds before something exploded would be closer to the truth.

Max let go of Liz's embrace when he felt the air… _charging_ around them. It was such a curious feeling, one that he wouldn't have minded at all if they had been alone, or just with their group. But the Cafeteria was hardly the place where he wanted to explore new feelings that could potentially lead to the destruction of public property, especially with the state of mind they both had. Liz must have sensed something too because she looked at him a little bit blushed.

Looking into her beautiful eyes, oblivious to everything and everyone around them, Max felt a twinge of guilt. She had been so worried for him, and he hadn't been exactly… in danger… No matter what he had tried to feel all day long, what he had tried to _send_, Liz had been worried, really worried. And okay, he had to admit to himself that it was in part Liz's fault, because she was too focused on feeling something wrong, but still… He wished there was a way they could actually talk in this connection, so they could say with words what their feelings so obviously failed to communicate. Max frowned to himself. There was something odd about that last thought…

His guilt also had to do with the fact that he _had_ had a good time that morning, and all that time he was feeling Liz's fear for his welfare. At some point he had been so seriously worried about her that he had asked Michael what he was getting from Maria. Michael had looked at him without understanding why was Max asking that. After all, Max was the expert, not him

"_I'm just getting Liz's anxiousness and I'm starting to wonder if it is just because of me or if something else is going on."_

_Michael had thought about it for a second, and shrugging, he had said, "Maria's fine as far as I can tell, and you know them: They wouldn't be fine if they weren't with each other." And as an after thought, Michael had added, "right?"_

"_Right… I mean, Liz is anxious, not panicking… She's just… worried… for what is happening in here, not with her…"_

So Max had let it go, though around 10:00 a.m. a growing anger had started to be felt through their connection. He had stopped doing what he was doing then and had really concentrated on feeling Liz. Somehow that anger had felt right, as if she somewhat was pouring it out of her, getting rid of it. He hadn't understood it then, and he was certainly going to ask about it now, but at least in that moment Max convinced himself that if something was wrong with Liz, he would know it beyond any doubt. And certainly, Michael would feel Maria if something was wrong too.

Speaking of them, Michael and Maria were now heading to a table by the corner of the place, where Kyle was already seated. His wife and his almost sister-in-law had met with them right outside the entrance, and it wasn't till now that they were seeing Kyle. Good. Everyone would get to know what everyone else had done at the same time.

When they started walking to the table, Max put his arm around Liz's shoulder to reassure him that they both were okay, and almost imperceptibly he felt Liz wince.

"You are hurt?" he asked, fear both in his eyes and voice, stopping dead in his tracks, turning to see right into his soul-mate's eyes. Why hadn't he known it before?

"Sore," Liz said shrugging, clearly not giving it importance, smiling as if telling him that he shouldn't give it importance either. "You know, I have spent five hours in a gym…"

Max felt how he started to breathe again. Liz hugged him back, almost in a gesture of reassuring him that she was, indeed, okay, and was equally happy to see him unharmed as well.

"And speaking of gyms," Maria said to him as they were all sitting, "maybe you can work a little of your magic and make us feel better…" Maria's words trailed off, a glimmer of hope in her eyes, until Liz spoke: "No, Maria. If we cheat on this, it is going to hurt as bad tomorrow. We have to build resistance, that's all." Maria just pouted at her, making Max smile to himself. He knew that if he smiled openly at Maria, the pout would be directed at him, and he didn't want Maria pissed off at him, no matter how little the transgression.

"So I take it the Gym was okay?" Kyle asked, his fingers seemingly having lost the ability to remain still, tearing apart a napkin into little pieces. Max wondered why Kyle was so anxious. Sure they all wanted to hear Kyle's story, -everyone's story- and would get to it soon, but there was something… out of character there. What had happened to Kyle that morning?

"If Liz can recall fifteen minutes in a row of what we did, I'll be impressed," Maria said, her eyes diverting to the center of the cafeteria, where food was waiting for them.

"What do you mean?" Max asked, succeeding in sounding casual even if the subject was Liz. The fact that he knew Maria was joking did help a ton, but he also knew that there was truth in the blonde's words. It was the kind of comment Maria made when she wanted someone to hit a specific topic of conversation.

"I was just distracted," Liz defended herself, this time the pout coming from her. "I know you said you didn't want me to worry and all," Liz started, this time looking at him. She looked exactly like that flash he had gotten three years ago, where a much younger Liz was pleading with her mom to stay up one more hour so she could see some documentary on the History Channel. She was arguing her case then, just like she was now. "But I just couldn't stop wondering… Did everything go as okay as you made me feel through our connection?"

Liz's voice hardly trembled, but it didn't matter. Max already knew Liz was scared that his answer would be "no". At the same time, the three humans at the table turned questioning eyes to the three not so humans with them. It was obvious that the former had all been nervous and worried about the latter and, to their surprise, that also made the pod squad blush. Max looked at Isabel and then at Michael, not exactly sure of how to say this without it sounding… inadequate.

Finally, Michael spoke: "We were playing some stupid computer car game…" Michael's voice sounded annoyed, as it always did when Michael didn't want to admit something –Max had way too many hours with Michael to not know that. Silence reigned at the table for about five seconds.

"You were _WHAT_!" Maria exploded, clearly not believing Michael's words, and even more clearly daring him to say he was actually telling the truth.

"What are you guys talking about?" Kyle asked, just as lost as Liz looked. Gosh, there was no easy way of saying this… and it was just ridiculous, Max thought for a nanosecond there.

"We raced each other on this computer game…" Max started, and when he saw Maria's face staring at him with hurt eyes, and Liz's unbelieving ones, he rushed in, "it was all Jake's idea, I swear!"

Even if Liz wasn't saying a word, Max could almost sense in the mix that were her feelings something along the lines of _I worried sick for you and you were WHAT! PLAYING! _It was almost comical, really, and he bet some day they would all laugh about it… but somehow all he could feel now was a mix of shame and guilt…

"He said we looked like we were going to faint, and we certainly felt like that," Isabel interceded for Max's and Michael's sakes, since both Maria and Liz were speechless, though it was clear it wasn't exactly because they were thrilled, "and that we needed to relax."

Liz's feelings dissolved as logic was intruding her mind. Her eyes lost that outraged look, and stared at him almost as if she were weighing something. Max didn't know what it was, but he surely hoped it was something good.

"That's why you stopped being so nervous and anxious," Liz finally managed to address to him, her emotions now receding to something he guessed was resignation and calmness. "Was there any point to it? I mean, besides _relaxing_ you."

"I actually asked him that," Max said with half a smile, feeling horrible for knowing she had had a terrible morning picturing him at some mad doctor's lab. God knew the three of them had exactly thought that when they had entered the _real_ Lab that morning.

"_You want us to run cars on a computer game?" Isabel had asked after they had entered the first division of the Lab, a sort of huge living room, with one big screen at one end and a semi-circle couch at the other one. The walls were bare, rough, painted in dark green colors, giving it the impression of being a very important and formal place. Jake had gone to one of the many drawers that were below the screen, and had taken out four wireless, very advanced looking joysticks. That had been when they had started wondering what kind of running Jake was talking about. When the screen had come alive a minute later, and he had accessed the game menu, Isabel had asked that first question._

"_Sure," Jake had answered, "It's a new version of something the Network Keepers are testing down in level 5, and Jeremy lent it to me. Though I didn't know it will be this handy." Jake ended handing them the controls, the three of them rooted to their place, not believing it. Where was the catch?_

"_Is there any point to this?" Max slowly asked, not sure of how exactly asked the fact that they didn't understand why did he wanted them playing, and much less liking the fact that Jake was taking this as a game. Jake had smiled, his eyes glued to the screen as he was presetting the options._

"_There's always a point to everything in this place, and as far as I can tell, I'll always make sure there's a point for you and me both. So, right now you need to trust this environment, and to trust this is safe, or otherwise, you are going to burn it down the moment you see me with a needle." The three of them had tensed –even more- at that statement. "See what I mean?" Jake had said arching one eyebrow at them. "That's what you need, to distract yourselves. Now, what I need is to… _preset_ you." _

_The three of them had stared at him, still trying to get a hold on themselves and their nerves, not really understanding what the hell was the man in front of them talking about with _preset_ them. But Jake had sat down, with his left hand signaling them to come, and with the right one finishing all the options for the four players._

"_This place," Jake had said while they were taking seats together, as far away as physically possible from him, "has sensors all over it. So I'm collecting data from all of you and myself right now. Just your basic vital information." Max had looked up at the green ceiling then, wondering how fast his heart was beating at that moment. "Now, what I meant with _preset_ you was that I need to know what is happening to you in any normal circumstance. Kind of having a basic measure. I know how a human body reacts to normal stimuli, so I need to know how similar your reactions to ours are." Jake had then turned to look at them with a genuine smile, almost a reassuring one. He was really enjoying the moment. "Pick up your cars."_

"That's interesting," Liz said after Max had finished the explanation. "I wouldn't have thought of that," she added thoughtfully. "Does that mean all week long you are going to play that game? Maybe longer?"

"Hell no," Michael said, outraged, "I'll fry that thing first." Max almost chuckled at Michael's outburst. Out of the three of them, Michael was the one with far more hours on playing games than the _five_ of them put together. But then again…

"You are just mad because I beat the crap out of you two," Isabel said with a bright smile at Michael's annoyance, standing up to go to the buffet, though Max was suspecting she was more likely escaping Michael's scowl. Though his best friend had started "beating the crap out of them" –Jake included- Isabel had progressively managed the little tricks of the game.

Jake's car game had worked in taking their minds out off where they were, Max had to admit that, as they all followed Isabel's example of getting some lunch. By 9:00 a.m. they had only played half the roads options and a quarter of the cars, and a real competition was going on between the four contestants. Because older or not, Jake was a really good player as well, usually going "nose to nose" with Michael. And Max, well, he wasn't the play station kind of guy. Sure he had won his share of races, but he had had no illusions about being the "champ" of the day.

"I'm glad everything went okay," Liz said in a more happy tone, apparently deciding that playing was way better than all the things she had been thinking. Max was glad too, but he knew that sooner or later the car games were not going to be the only things they were going to do. He just didn't know what to expect now… and he didn't like his imagination wandering around those corners either…

"I hate Mondays," a guy right next to him said, a very popular quote –and feeling- stamped on mugs all over the country, Max reflected as he curiously looked at the at least 8 inches taller, blond haired, heavily German-accented man. "They can never serve apple pie on Mondays…"

Max's attention diverted to the tables, which had a considerably smaller variety of food, -and a less elaborated variety too- and genuinely curious, asked out loud, "Wasn't there more food on Saturday?"

The man looked down at him, Max feeling a very unfamiliar sense of being short –even if Michael was taller than himself, he wasn't _that_ tall- and smiling said: "You are new."

It wasn't a question, it was a statement. "Is that so obvious?" Max said, unconsciously raising a hand to his right earlobe, noticing that a green card hung from the stranger's neck.

The man lowered his eyes to the table and continued serving himself. "Weekends are special I guess, that's why the special food is served. Kind of reminds us that days do have a meaning down here after all…" he said shrugging. Finishing his task of filling his plate, he turned his head. "Welcome to the Compound." He then turned around and walked to a far off table, where someone else was clearly waiting for him.

"Wow, that man was tall," Liz said, standing right beside him, both staring at the –apparently- German stranger as he walked off. Slightly nodding, Max turned to look at Liz. "Well, at least we know the food on Saturday wasn't a show." For one second there, that had been exactly what he had thought. He couldn't help himself, he couldn't shake the feeling that somehow everything was calculated for them to feel safe when they shouldn't feel like that.

That was a feeling that was getting old. He was so unsure of how to feel about everything in this place, and he also knew the others felt the same way as well. Was it okay to finally let the guard down? Or was there never going to be a day where they could actually relax? It was no longer a matter of doubting if they had taken the right decision on accepting the offer, it was about _how_ to handle life now that they were here.

Ten minutes later, they were all back at their table. And sure, Max was hungry, but since Jake had offered them submarine sandwiches around 10:00 a.m. -right when he had felt Liz's anger, by the way- it had diminished the pod squad's need for food. But Liz and Maria were a completely different story. It was apparent enough that Ray hadn't offered anything solid at all, and he knew that Liz had skipped breakfast that morning, just as he had.

So, as his wife and her best friend were eating with passion –politely, discreetly and not at all gross, but certainly with _passion_- he, Michael and Isabel resumed explaining the highlights of their day.

"What do you mean you are going to work alone?" Maria asked right before taking a long drink from her orange juice. "What about Samantha and William?"

"He told us that most of the time it was going to be just us," Max said as he was passing the Tabasco sauce to his sister, "but that some… measurements, I think he called them, were needed from other experts. That's when we are going to work with other people."

"What kind of expert is Jake? Is he some kind of doctor?" Liz asked, going for her second hamburger.

"He wasn't clear," Isabel said, frowning. Max had wondered too, but there hadn't been a right time to ask that. Jake hadn't asked much of them either. Not about their powers, at least, which had been their major concern. After all, they had agreed on omitting some, passing one or two to Tess, and last but not least, to "lesser" their powers as well. It wasn't that Jake wasn't interested, but Jake had been explaining how their relationship could work. Max had frowned with intrigue at that expression: _could_ instead of _should, _as if he were open to suggestions. Jake had struck him as a very care free person, and yet there was always control behind it. Jake knew what he was doing, but he also had several alternatives to get done whatever he wanted. Max wondered if Dave was like that, because even if he hadn't perceived _carefree-ness_ from him, he had sensed that control that emanated from knowing one's plan is… flexible.

"But he is a doctor, right?" This time Kyle was the one asking. Of all six of them, he was the only one who hadn't gone for a complete ration, just a salad and two desserts.

"He kept talking about metabolisms and biochemistry…" Max said thoughtfully, "but he was always talking about it in order for us to understand what he wanted."

Jake had been clear about one thing: He was not only going to try for the _exercises _to have a point for both of them, but that they should understand what was being done.

"_That means, kids, that school is not over. In order to understand a whole bunch of these things you are going to have to learn a little bit about metabolism and biochemistry. As we start working, I'll give you the readings. And I _do_ expect you to read them." He had said as he was crossing the goal, gaining a new record. _

"He doesn't want us in the dark," Max concluded, somehow the phrase making him feel… comfortable.

Michael hadn't said much about the whole situation, and Max knew that it had nothing to do with the fact that Isabel had kicked his butt on the car game. But he just couldn't figure out what was motivating Michael's silence. He sensed it was related to the fact that things had gone… _weird_, and that somehow Michael was perceiving danger in there. Max knew he himself shouldn't be this comfortable now, and that the car game was only a diversion from what was happening. After all, they _were_ being measured: Their breathing, heart beat, temperature and God knew what else being analyzed while they were playing.

That was the deal. Whether they were comfortable or not, playing or not, the fact was that they had agreed to be studied in exchange for safety, and a chance to lead normal life. Well, Liz and Maria had gone to a gym, and they were now eating peacefully, without thinking the Special Unit was going to land on them any second; every single stranger a potential agent; moving down the road without end.

Maybe Michael was thinking that. None of them were thrilled about going to the lab, but things could have gone a hell of a lot differently. They were lucky, Max guessed, that this Jake was so willing to share with them, to make them understand. But then again, it could all be an act. This had been only the first day, how long for them to be certain this was the way things would be? Yep, that sounded like Michael.

"What about you, Kyle? How did it go with Dave?" Isabel asked. Now that they had told their day, and both Maria and Liz had said nothing interesting had happened in theirs –aside from the schedule with the lessons being taught at the Gym- they wanted to hear Kyle's story. It had been practical to leave Kyle for the last since he had been there alone. Max, Michael and Isabel had to share their views on all things, and three heads telling a story is a lot longer than just one.

"I think he's the genuine," Kyle stated, slicing a little piece out of his strawberry jello. "You know that thing Jake did with the cars? Dave had his own version of distraction: He's putting a puzzle together. And I mean a _huge_ puzzle. It was freaking maddening to see him just placing piece after piece while you are talking, but then I started putting pieces together, and it just felt… comfortable. I guess that was his diversion for me."

"A puzzle?" Michael asked, narrowing his eyes, his face reflecting his suspiciousness about it. Sure, it was odd, Max thought, but he didn't see anything to be suspicious about in a puzzle…

"He said it is about a desert storm too," Kyle pointed out, and lifting his eyes to look at them, he added: "He said he had already memorized the picture. And he also said the room where we were talking didn't have any kind of recording device."

Jake had said the same about the first room where they had been, his office, Max guessed. Whatever you say or do in here, the alleged doctor had stated, will stay between you, me, and these walls. But just like Kyle had done at Dave's comment about the room being unwatched, the three of them had looked back at Jake with the unspoken question of _is that supposed to make us feel better?_

After half an hour –right about the time when all in the table were at one or another stage of finishing their respective desserts- Kyle was getting to the end of what he had said, what he hadn't said, and what he had just implied. And Max hoped Kyle had a good memory too, because if Dave could memorize a picture, he sure could memorize a conversation. No wonder there weren't any recording devices in the room: His brain was the damned recording thing.

"When we finished talking about our childhood, he asked me what was I planning for my future now…" Kyle trailed off, as if unsure of how to proceed. The five of them stopped eating and looked straight at Kyle. They knew Dave was waiting for them to pick something to study, and they had thought Dave was going to give them a lot more time than two days –at least two in Kyle's case, but certainly not more than a week for that matter.

"What did you say?" Liz asked, frowning, clearly thinking what everyone else was thinking at that table. Everyone else except for Kyle, of course. Didn't they have more time?

"That I had no idea… Which was the truth, you know?" Kyle paused for a moment. "He told me then that I should consider something to do with mechanics, because I had done a great job with six of his cars."

"What?" Five people asked at the same time. Kyle sighed.

"He told me that, although he hadn't been in Roswell by himself, he had sent a lot of people for him. And that out of 14 cars they had submitted to Toby's place, I had fixed six. He even described them for me, and hell, I can't even remember a single one of those cars… What if I hadn't made such a great work with them?" Kyle asked out loud, as if any of them had any answers for it. Max knew that Kyle prided himself on a job well done, but that he wasn't always an… _entire perfectionist_ with all the cars, hence Kyle's worry.

Now that he was thinking about it, Max had known that Kyle had liked auto shop back in school, and that was one of the reasons he had gone to work at Toby's Auto Shop to get some bills paid, but Max also knew that Kyle hadn't been thrilled about working there about two months afterwards.

The curious part was that Kyle _was_ a good mechanic. He had made the van last as long as three weeks, just enough time to take them from the Church where Max had married to the next town, the final town for the old van that Jesse had gotten God knew where. And he was really good with everything that involved putting pieces together.

Isabel had told Max once that Kyle wasn't always all that great, and that sometimes he had asked for some hocus pocus from her. Max had smiled at that back then, but now he had a feeling of uneasiness growing inside him. Had Dave been somehow testing Kyle? Did Dave _know_ something about Kyle? About _Liz_?

"Anyway," Kyle continued, trying to stay on the subject, "he said I _will_ take something related to mechanics, at least for a short time, whatever 'short' is in his book, and that then I could decide if I wanted to continue or not… How damned thoughtful of him, if you ask me…"

"So now he's deciding for us?" Maria asked, outraged. Michael and Isabel looked a little bit lost. Liz was deep in thought, her thoughts racing as fast as the cars Max had been playing with that morning. Max himself didn't know what to think about this.

"Well," Kyle said in his usual resigned tone, "in his words, I can learn whatever else I want, but that I must include," Kyle made a pause, as if recalling something, "_a round on building three at least twice a week_, because there's where the physics with the engineers do their work. What the hell do I know about physics?" Kyle ended with a worried look.

"We are supposed to go to building three on Wednesday," Liz said frowning, still working out things in her head. Max could practically _feel_ her thinking. Right then, a high _beep_ sounded around the table. Actually, it had been 6 beeps, all coming from their respective G.E.S.'s –thought it took them a minute to remember they had those with them- that had all sounded right at the same time. They had a message from Dave:

"_Change of plans. Go shopping this afternoon, and please, get a GOOD look around. You'll meet with Administration on Thursday. D."_

The six of them stared at the small monitors. Before anyone could say a thing, another _beep_ went out.

"_P.S.: Have FUN. J."_

"J?" Maria said, arching one eyebrow.

"Jake," Max absently answered her, reaching for his pocket where a copy of the schedule was folded. They all had made a copy to carry around, so everyone could know where everyone else was. That was the exact number of lab, floor, building, etc, etc, etc, that they needed to know in order to reach out each other.

Liz was unfolding hers before him. "We were supposed to go today to Administration and shopping on Thursday …"

"What kind of game is he playing with us?" Michael said, not bothering with getting his schedule out. Liz lowered hers, and looking at Michael, something clicked in Liz's mind. A feeling that Max loved, by the way.

"J. Max is right, that must have been Jake. If he was so worried about relaxing you this morning, he probably managed to change the schedule." Liz said shrugging, thinking that it sounded logical. It sounded logical to him too. Except that—

"Since when does shopping mean relaxing?" Kyle protested, echoing Max's thoughts.

"Since we can go and get everything for free," Maria said smiling, an equally wide grin appearing on his sister's face at Maria's words.

"And where exactly is the _fun_ in that?" Michael tried to argue, Maria and Isabel glaring at him. But the sentence was already given: They would go shopping that afternoon, if for nothing else but to follow the schedule.

------------------------------------------------

Ray watched as Jake and Dave put piece after piece in the huge puzzle that was now occupying the most part of Dave's desk. Since he was eating, he was not allowed to put a single finger over a single piece. It didn't matter to him, he wasn't all that much of a fan of puzzles to begin with. But the two people he respected the most in the world were apparently in heaven while doing this. It was amazing, really, to see how they would just take one random piece and put it around the place where later on it would fit.

Ray had heard the story a million times –an expression Jake used at _all_ times- about how the doc had discovered Dave's passion and had later on joined him in the never ending hobby of solving those things. Except that Jake never put together a puzzle if Dave wasn't doing it. Jake had told him the fun was to make it with his friend. On the other hand, Dave had no problem in doing so by himself, though he didn't mind at all when others helped him. Something that, in Ray's experience, most puzzles lovers hated.

Ray's eyes kept watching both men picking and placing pieces, while his thoughts raced through his mind. He had a question nagging at him, but he wasn't sure of how to bring it up. In fact, he wasn't even sure of what to think about the subject either.

"Why did you take so long?" Jake's words brought Ray back to reality, though Jake's question was directed to Dave. Ray and Jake had met halfway to Dave's office about twenty minutes before, and it hadn't been till around ten minutes ago that Dave had sent a message that was supposed to be sent some good two hours before, as far as Ray had understood it.

"Administration," Dave said flipping pieces up. "Richard said he couldn't change the schedule to Thursday for a million reasons. A million reasons that I had to correct in order for things to work for our beloved administrator. As you must remember, _he_ is a Virgo. Changing his plans did crash his world…"

When Dave had announced that he was sending the kids on a shopping trip, Ray had told him to tell them to have a good look around, because so far, they had barely seen the place. Dave had just nodded, and had hit the send button just before Jake had said _make sure to tell them to have a good time too. _Dave had typed again, but Ray knew that because he had taken such a short time, he must have shortened the message as well.

After that, Ray had directed his attention to his empty stomach, while Jake took his place beside the table, starting to flip pieces again. Silence had descended over them, a companionable one, but still Ray's mind was trying to find the right words. Why had Dave and Jake left him out on something concerning the kids?

"You should have seen them, Dave," Jake said, breaking the silence, his eyes searching through the endless pieces for the one he was eager to place. "They looked just as bad as you did the first time I met you."

Dave stopped his own search in midair, thinking, and then, raising his eyes, he told Jake: "But I was having an asthma attack when you first saw me… Did they really look that bad?" Dave was joking, Jake wasn't. He too stopped searching, and looked at Dave straight in the eye.

"I'm telling you, if I had showed them a needle they would have fainted in front of me. What the hell did you tell those kids I was going to do to them?"

Jake was angry, in that very subtle way of his. He didn't need to raise his voice, or point fingers or anything of that sort. It was all in his eyes, and his voice was just a slight tone higher and stronger than usual. Both Dave and Ray were surprised by Jake's change of mood, if that was what it was.

"Nothing," Dave said defensively, "I didn't tell them a thing. I guessed you wanted to explain everything yourself."

"Nothing?" this time Jake straightened himself up from where he was, placing his hands palms down, leaning against the table. "What are you, nuts? You left them with worries, phantoms and fears beyond _our _imagination for two days and you expected them to be _okay_?"

Dave frowned. Ray had stopped eating just a second before. Suddenly, his question didn't seem all that important anymore…

"No," Dave said, this time in an even, calm tone. It was really unusual for the two of them to argue, and the few times Ray had been a witness to it, it had never lasted long. "I told them they could choose whatever they wanted to do with you, but that _you_ would explain it in detail."

Dave's calmness was enough to smooth the vibes around the room. Jake sighed briefly. "Well, they didn't seem like they were thinking along those lines, trust me."

"But you managed okay, right?" Dave asked, this time his tone eager, his eyes betraying the control he always imposed on himself every time his curiosity gained on him.

"I managed, right. _Okay_ might be a little bit of a stretch," Jake stated, his eyes slowly moving toward the pieces. "I knew we weren't going to cover too much the first day, but the fact that they were so damned nervous… Michael was literally sparking in front of me…"

"What!" Ray asked at the same time Dave did, both men looking at the older one. Jake didn't bother looking up, and dismissing them with his left hand, he added: "It was just a tiny spark, don't make a circus out of it."

"Don't make us think there's a circus to be made out of it," Ray said, his submarine completely forgotten in his right hand, his pulse slowly returning to normal. He trusted those kids, alright, but he wasn't sure how _much_ to trust them just yet.

"What did you do?" Dave asked. He, too, had forgotten what was in his right hand.

"Play cars. Remind me to thank Jeremy for the car game," Jake said to Ray.

"You've got three half aliens willing for you to test them and you played cars?" Dave said with a tentative smile, not quite sure whether to laugh about it or to be worried about it.

"First of all, they are not exactly all that _willing_, Dave, they are more likely _obliged_. And secondly, what makes you believe I wasn't testing them? You know the whole lab is wired to pick up their signs. That way we wouldn't have to be walking through mazes of cables all around ourselves. I started to preset them."

"Thanks for reminding me why you are my best friend in the world," Dave said, his eyes returning to the puzzle. "So, who won?"

"Isabel kicked our collective butts pretty hard… but give Michael a little bit of practice…" Ray smiled at that. Women kicking men's butts wasn't a nice thought for any guy's ego… especially with car games.

"Isabel has better reflexes than Max and Michael?" Ray asked, trying to sound as if he knew the science aspect about girls versus guys on video games.

"Usually, men have better reflexes, quicker responses than women do," Jake said, pausing his search, reaching an equally scientific response to Ray's question, "but Isabel was the calmest of the three. I bet that played a huge factor in the scores."

"Calmer? Your car game didn't calm all of them?" Dave asked, frowning at Jake.

"Michael stopped sparking, okay, but he was far from being calmed. He didn't let himself lose in the game. And Max was distracted all the time. I don't know why, he just was… like absent or something…"

"You mean you don't know?" Ray asked astonished, looking straight at Jake, and then at Dave. Was Jake feigning ignorance? Dave leaned back over his chair, looking at him.

"What? You do?" Jake asked, completely taken aback by Ray's sudden interruption of his record of events.

"Liz was absent as well, all day long. And she kept murmuring or telling Maria something about Max telling her that he was all right. Liz just wasn't convinced."

"You mean Max was actually talking to Liz? As in telepathy?" Jake asked, this time amazed, clearly thinking of the possibilities.

"No, not exactly… when I finally asked Maria, she said it was more like feeling each other. I thought you knew all that already…" Ray trailed off for a couple of seconds. "I thought you just hadn't told me." The accusation was there, Ray couldn't deny he hadn't liked being left in the dark, but if neither Jake or Dave knew—

"Did you know that empathic link was there?" Jake turned to look at Dave, who in turned looked pensive. Clearly Jake was also suspecting someone had left them both in the dark.

"They talked about it in the rooms, but I wasn't sure how to interpret it then. I figured sooner or later you would know about it, Jake." And then, turning to look at Ray, he added: "You know I would never keep information from you, Ray. These kids are too important to me to have anyone making mistakes around them. Anyway, this… link or whatever they have, was not relevant to trap them as now it's not relevant to keep them here."

"Don't be so sure, Dave. Do not underestimate what they would do for each other, especially if they _feel_ something is not right." Ray seriously said. After all, he had been the one to follow them weekly when they were in high school, and as often as he could when they had been on the road. Ray knew first hand how tight they could be.

"I'm not planning on either Max or Liz feeling something's wrong from each other, Ray." Dave calmly said, "But I do understand your point."

"All the same, you should have told _me_ that," Jake said, returning to the never ending piece hunt.

"You were on a bed courtesy of almond cookies, my friend. And as I said, it wasn't relevant. I bet you'll get to know all about that soon enough." Dave said dismissively, something Jake didn't like. Apparently, being mad at the thought of being left in the dark wasn't exclusive to Ray.

"Anything else you would like to share, now that we are on it, and I'm not in a bed?" Jake answered, in that cynical way of his.

"Hm… did you know it only takes a sip for Max to get drunk?" Jake stopped placing his piece, slowly raising his head to Dave, his eyes practically racing from one point to the other. In ten seconds he would start theorizing about metabolisms and biochemistry, Ray knew, but before that, he chocked on his soda. _Just a sip? That boy has problems…_

------------------------------------------------

"Next time, we are doing a list," Liz said, finally putting her head over Max's left shoulder, both now in bed, reflecting on the day's events. Eleven bags in the living room were testimony to the busy afternoon the couple had had.

"Are you sure? You seemed to do fine without one…" Max said, his voice coming teasing, his left arm coming to rest over Liz's own shoulders. "I mean, was there anything you _didn't_ bring?"

Liz felt herself blushing a little. She had been carried away by the fact of being shopping without needing money. Granted, Max's diamond sales could have taken away the worry about spending money when they were on the road, but they had been careful with their economics all the same. They had to pay car rentals, gas, motels, food, clothes, etc, etc, etc, and it wasn't as if they could just go off selling diamonds every week. It could leave a traceable path, and they weren't taking risks.

Still, The Shop was a very huge place. She guessed it was like the twin brother of Wal Mart or something. Liz remembered Samantha telling them that The Shop was a place where one could order things by catalogue or internet, but Liz must have dozed into a micro-coma there, because she hadn't recalled a thing about The Shop being a warehouse with your every day stuff. True, the catalogues and the internet service were there, but something as important as this place shouldn't have passed so unaware for them.

Maria, Isabel and Liz had been in heaven, and the guys would have to admit that, even if not in heaven, it wasn't that bad either. It had taken all afternoon long to be completely sure they had gone through all the corridors, and amazingly, there had been a lot of people in that place. Maria had said something about it being the beginning of the month –it was Monday, February 3rd, 2003- until Michael reminded her that it shouldn't matter that it was the beginning of the month when you weren't paid and you didn't have to pay for anything either. Maria had glared at him.

But they had had to pay. In credits. They had had to pass their white cards as if they were credit cards, and the guy sitting at the register had smiled when he had noticed that the color was white. As far as Liz had seen, besides Ray, Dave and themselves, no one else was wearing colorless cards. But he had said nothing. For one moment Liz was sure they had exceeded their "credit" limit, but all had been fine. When Liz had asked for a total amount, the green eyed, bright smiled guy had frowned a little bit.

"_You only use credits for the outside purchases. This is merely a way of registering what you have bought, so we'll make sure to have it in stock for your next purchase."_

"_Like a data base?" Liz had asked the slightly freckled, red haired clerk, the other five members of her group all listening carefully behind her._

"_Yeah. If there are things you were looking for and didn't find, please, say so to The Shop space on the Virtual Net. _

And that was why they needed a list. To keep track of things they wanted and that weren't there. Though Max, Michael and Isabel had looked at the –newly and neatly arranged- Tabasco sauce bottles as if they were some long lost friends, they weren't their favorite brand. They didn't care all that much, really, and Liz had vaguely thought that anything with that amount of spiciness should be enough for her husband's almost-need of extremely condiment laden food.

Now that she was thinking about it, she was glad she had never had a problem with spicy food, because Max's kisses were always having a slight tinge of pepper and salt, of a very condiment taste… well, a spicy essence, and there was nothing in the world better than that. Almost as if reading her mind, Max took her left hand with his right and brought her fingers to his lips.

They both were pretty much wiped out, but they needed this little time to themselves, before falling asleep. It wasn't that they were exhausted because of walking for four and a half hours in a super-sized store, or the fact that she had hit a punching bag with such anger that her muscles were in actual pain right now if she moved them in some specific ways. No, they were _mentally_ exhausted. They hadn't really noticed that weariness till they had come back to their apartment around forty minutes before.

They weren't having a headache, but they felt as if they had gone through a 700 question math quiz that morning. They were exhausted because of the concentration they had focused on each other all morning long. That combined with the fact of a very poor sleep time the night before, and the terrible hidden fears each knew the other was thinking could happen to either of them, hadn't done wonders for their mental states right now.

Liz sighed in contentment as she felt her muscles relaxing beneath Max's embracing arms and light kisses. There was no better place on Earth than the one she was right now: Hearing Max's steady heart beat, rhythmically beating strong below her ear. She loved to hear Max falling asleep, his breathing coming even, his heart starting to beat slower, his muscles relaxing beneath her. She loved it because it meant that Max felt safe with her at his side. She loved it because it meant Max knew how much she loved him back. In those instants, their love became a tangible thing with a simple act like being embraced.

"Was this Jake a nice person, Max?" Liz asked when her husband placed her hand back over his upper chest.

"He seemed like one… Why?" Max's voice came a little over a whisper, but since they were both alone in their room, she heard him perfectly. Max was falling asleep, making her feeling sleepy too. Or maybe it was the other way around: She was both mentally and physically tired, so she could be dragging him along through their connection… Not that they thought it actually worked that way, but the idea was there, all the same.

"Well… if we do stay here for a long time, it is good to know you'll be working with someone you like… I mean, it wouldn't be as if you could change whoever is testing you, right?"

Max took his time to answer her, making Liz almost believe that he had already fallen asleep.

"I think that if we hadn't liked him for whatever reason, we could have said so and Dave would have fixed the problem…" Max slowly said, almost unsure of telling her that. Liz frowned at Max's doubt. Still, probably because he felt her feeling him doubting, Max added: "Whatever Dave wants, whatever his real motives to keep us here are, I'm sure he wouldn't mind changing whatever we don't like so we stay. Even if it includes changing his friend."

"I would like to meet him," Liz said, her fingers tracing imaginary tiny lines over Max's chest, a habit formed out of many insomnia filled nights, when they had escaped unseen dangers thanks to her now gone power.

"I'm sure you'll meet sooner or later. No matter how big this place is, it is not _that_ big."

Liz had meant to ask him if she could just sort of come down to see the Lab, but she knew Max needed some time to adapt himself to that place, to somehow make sure it was safe enough for her to be there or something. She could respect that, but she was also sure that sooner or later she _would_ go down and have a look around. She needed to see where her husband was going to spend all that time. And, if she was honest with herself, she also needed to see that the place was safe for _him,_ and that Max wasn't somehow blocking her out, not letting her feel everything that was going on down there.

"You know, he might end up teaching me or something…" Liz said, Max's breathing now steadily going slower, her own voice coming out drowsy. They were _really_ falling asleep.

"Hm…" Max said, placing his right hand over her left one, "maybe I'll go with you one of these days to hit that punching bag…"

Liz smiled. Max had probably felt her thought about wanting him to be safe and the anger of doubting if he was safe or not in this place. That punching bag had come in handy. It would probably come in handy all week long… maybe longer too. Liz moved an inch or two to re-accommodate herself by Max's side, and a good group of her muscles –mostly her arms, back and upper chest and back- made her wince in pain.

"Are you sure?" Max asked. Liz didn't need to look up to know Max had half opened his eyes to look at her. She also didn't need to ask him what he was talking about.

"I'm sure," she answered back. She was firm in her belief that if Max healed her aching muscles it would just be all the same tomorrow. No. If she just went through the whole week without cheating on this, by Friday night she would be ready to take salsa lessons if she wanted to without so much as a second thought about her sore body.

Max carefully hugged her a little bit stronger with his left arm. "My brave girl," he said, his chest moving with his quiet laughter, making her believe he was finally content in this place, in this situation.

He almost fooled her. Almost, but not really. In the depths of his sleepy thoughts, Max was worrying about something. He had kept her away from that place all afternoon, but because now his inner walls were crumbling thanks to the day's tiredness, Liz was having a glimpse of it. Nothing big, just a glimpse, but it was something. Max sensed her a second too late.

"You are worrying about Michael?" Liz said, finally understanding Max's almost fading thoughts.

"A little…" Max answered, his teasing tone nowhere to be heard, "he's going to meet with Dave tomorrow… and I'm not sure how's that going to end…"

"Michael's going to be fine… He would not say something he would regret later…" Liz couldn't _read_ Max's thoughts, but if she had to put in words the feelings she was getting from the man right beside her, she would say he was thinking something along _I wish I could believe that one…_ Max felt a twinge of guilt for doubting his best friend, but it was only a twinge. Michael had proven again and again that when you acted impulsively, there was little room for rational thoughts. Little to no room at all…

"He's nervous too…" Max said, more awake now than just a minute before. "He's been quiet and snappy all afternoon long…"

"I thought that was how Michael acted whenever we got into shopping mode…" Liz tried to joke, but there was not much humor in her voice. There wasn't much sleep in it either. Max's feelings shifted once again, to something resembling reproach: _This is why I didn't want you in this part of my head. Now we are both awake, fearing tomorrow just as we were yesterday fearing today. _

Liz placed her hand over Max's heart, two inches from her own face. _No, this is why I wanted to be in that part of your head, because you shouldn't worry alone for these things._

They both laughed. A quiet and small laugh, but a genuine one, nonetheless. And it felt good too. They weren't really talking, but the sense of their shifting feelings in response to each other's was a real way of communication between them. One they were barely understanding and even less controlling, but still it was a funny feeling.

"He's going to be all right, Max," Liz said _and_ felt at the same time. She reassured him through their connection that she did believe his best friend was going to act according to the circumstances. Michael might be the least one of them cheering on accepting this offer, but he had accepted. He also knew the stakes.

"This is going to be a long week, isn't it?" Max asked aloud, his left hand starting to caress her hair in slow feathered movements.

After Michael, it would be her turn to… _talk_ to Dave on Wednesday, not to mention that Max was the last on the list, scheduled for Saturday morning… Liz slightly nodded over Max's rising and falling chest. _But we are going to do alright_, she sent to Max with a confidence she was clinging to. They had been in the compound for three days now, a damned short time to feel confident and safe down here, but she had to try… they all had to try, didn't they?

_TBC…_


	12. Thoughts

Thanks for coming back to read! And thank you so much for the reviews:D

**XII  
Thoughts**

5:23 a.m. was a slightly better hour to awake than 5:58 a.m., but it still sucked. Michael slowly rolled over his back after seeing the hour on the digital clock alarm beside his bed. He knew that 37 minutes weren't going to be enough to fall asleep again before the alarm went off. But all the same, he didn't want to fall asleep again.

Michael had said once that he dreamed they all got whacked every other night. Except that now he had dreamed they were being whacked _every_ single night for the past 6 nights… oh wait, make that _nine_ nights, since three of those he couldn't really account for… he had been kidnapped and drugged into oblivion, so he couldn't really say what he had been dreaming then… that is, if he had dreamed at all.

Uneasiness was crawling steadily inside his being… almost as something alien… Almost but not quite, and even if it were something alien, so what? He was part one too, it was as much part of him as his human side –with all the mess of emotions and feelings— was. Long ago, in a kitchen far, _far_ away from where he was now, he and Max had fought about why they didn't want –or were scared- to be alien or human. Now they both understood how wrong they had been. They were actually _both_.

Max had said that the thought had truly and completely hit him when he was buying the others time to get out of the auditorium on their graduation ceremony, when his mind had gone completely blank about what to say to everyone in that place, and he had just started saying what he felt.

Michael had beaten him on this one. He had begun to understand it a little before he had decided to stay on Earth because of Maria. Right after talking to Max, now that he was thinking about it. Right after talking to him in a park late at night. Max had been telling him how then he was beginning to see that they didn't belong here, that no matter how hard he wanted it to be true, they weren't human.

"_Lately, I've been thinking that you might have been right all along." Max had said, for some unexplainable reason agreeing with him on a subject they had _never_ agreed upon._

"_Lately, I've been thinking I might have been wrong all along," and Michael wasn't going to let him down. They weren't agreeing now either._

That night Michael had thought, really thought about what it meant to be human or alien. He had despised his human side just as much Max had despised his alien side, and in that moment, when Michael was thinking about sides, he had, as Max would tell him a couple of years afterwards, truly and completely understood: They were both. The fact that they had always seen themselves as _divided_, even before knowing they were, indeed, half and half, science and all, should have told them that all along.

With the ship gone and no way of getting home, Michael had just stopped thinking altogether about his sides. He was staying on Earth, and he was going to be one hell of an earthling then. No point on reaching for the stars, kiddo, you are stuck on same ole Earth. He guessed now it had helped him to, well, sort of blend in both perspectives of himself. Still, old habits died hard, because sometimes –often, really- he still thought of himself as either alien or human… hardly both.

And his human side was petrified about what was going to happen to him as a whole because of his alien side. Hence the dreams. He had been fine through all those seven months after they had left Roswell. Sure, he had dreamt it then, but he was used to those visits around once a month. But nine days ago, they had been found. Since Liz's premonitions were no longer a safety net, they had been barely able to escape. The dreams had started then. Three days after that, they had been trapped, without even knowing it. That had done nothing good for his dreams once he had been able to dream again.

He had never been a big believer in dreams until he had been haunted by nightmares about tainted money. That had ended up with him and the others spending all of it in Vegas. Somehow, he knew Vegas wasn't going to solve his nightmares this time around. The dreams weren't that bad, probably because he barely remembered them, but they were getting worse. Usually, he would somehow feel Maria nearby, and the nightmare would just shake itself off. He had never awakened up Maria because of a bad dream, and he wasn't intending on starting now.

That was why Michael had slept alone that night. It had been bad enough the day before when he hadn't been able to control his nervous energy, actually being unable to put off his sparkles in front of prying eyes. That was how he felt in this place, that there were prying eyes everywhere, watching over him, waiting… Waiting for what? Hell if he knew, but waiting all the same. He hadn't been comfortable at all with that Jake guy looking at him with those round eyes while a damned spark was escaping his fingers. He hadn't needed sugar right then, he had needed to hit something, blow something up, burst something into oblivion. A car game hadn't really helped with that subject…

Michael truly needed to get rid of this constantly building energy right underneath his fingertips, but there was nothing at hand to do that… He could use a walk under the lonely stars too, but, ladies and gentlemen, that was _also_ out of his possibilities… Damn this place! His brand new clock alarm burst into a hundred pieces and a thousand sparkles to his left. Michael didn't even flinch. After all, everything related to him always –_always-_ ended up in pieces and sparkles, so there was no real surprise there…

Taking a deep breath, Michael tried to calm himself a little bit. No use trashing this place so then some Network Keeper would come and see. He didn't want anyone coming and seeing, though he wasn't completely sure there weren't any hidden cameras registering right now what he had just done. Passing a hand over the smoky remains of the clock to extinguish the smoke –similar experiences years ago had taught him that leaving your bursting things alone would invariably activate some smoke detector somewhere, and he really, truly didn't want anyone coming and seeing- he finally gave up on being in bed and got up.

Feeling like a caged lion, Michael walked to the kitchen and grabbed a Snapple out of the fridge. At least yesterday's trip to "The Shop" had replenished his favorite beverage. He wasn't sure why he liked it so much, especially since he didn't add Tabasco or sugar to it, —not often anyway— but the fact was undeniable. The funny thing was —or would have been if Michael had been in a better mood to think about it— that the six of them had actually gotten addicted to it. Sure, Max would always go for a Cherry Coke over a Snapple any given day, but still, no one complained when the multicolored bottles were occupying a large space in his refrigerator.

For two seconds he stopped in the living room on his way to his bedroom. He could sit down and watch something on the big screen –maybe _Braveheart_ for the 500th time- but he guessed he really wasn't in the mood to lay still, watching a movie, no matter how good that movie was. The irony was –and this time Michael was in the right mood to actually see the irony- that two minutes later, he was back in his bed, laying still. So, no movie, but staring at one's ceiling wasn't proactive either.

Minutes went away, and he sourly thought for a second that his life was going away as well. He wasn't much of a philosopher, but he did like to think about bigger things, meaningful things, even the nature of things. It was a long ago developed habit, when he was stuck in his trailer room, not being able to do anything –and with anything he meant not even a sound- laying on his bed staring at the ceiling. He had known then just as he had finally discovered later, that there was something out there, something important waiting for him. He wondered for a whole minute if that something important was _still_ waiting for him…

He let the thought go. His Antarian side had brought him nothing else but trouble, and besides, it wasn't as if he could go there. Certainly, he didn't _want_ to go there, not now that he had finally found home with Maria on this God forsaken planet. Still, he did wonder sometimes… were they still being expected? Or their legend was good enough to sustain the rebellion or whatever it was that wanted them home in the first place?

And what if he _could _go back? Well, screw them all, Michael silently thought as his mind filled with Maria's laughter, with her tears, with her songs, with her walk. God, there was nothing about Maria that Michael didn't love, even when she was driving him nuts, or kicking him at night as he watched her sleep. And Michael did love to do that, to watch her sleep.

He had stayed with her 'til later that night, giving her a massage over her sore muscles, as she asked him about how it really had gone with him and the lab. Somewhere along those lines he knew that Maria wanted to ask him to let her feel him, but Michael was unsure of how good that would be. From what the love of his life had told him, Liz had pretty much zoned out all morning long. He didn't want Maria worrying that bad. But _if_ something bad ever happened to him, and he needed Maria to flee for her life, he would make sure that the message would come across loud and clear.

She had fallen asleep murmuring something about who needed Max when Michael was there with his magic fingers, and he had murmured back that he was going to his place. Since she was too far gone into sleepiness, she hadn't been able to argue the point for once. He knew she thought that he shouldn't be alone right now, but just for this night, Michael really needed to think things through on his own. He sort of needed his space, he guessed.

More minutes passed away, and Michael started to feel sleepy again. He had started to feel sleepy too that day just a week and a half ago when the Special Unit had landed on them. The thought —the memory— snapped him into wakefulness.

Kyle had been the one on the lookout that night, but something inside Michael was uneasy about something he couldn't put his finger on… So he had actually stayed awake that night too, sort of keeping Kyle company, both silently arguing about the last hokey game and making bets about the upcoming Super Bowl. He could still remember Kyle joking about Liz's great potential at this betting stuff and that he just knew what he would do if he suddenly started getting glimpses of the future. He also clearly remembered when Kyle had suddenly changed the subject to ask him —in mock seriousness— what should he give Maria for her birthday. Michael had stared at Kyle, but he hadn't been really seeing him.

There hadn't been a sound, but there had been a feeling that had made all the little hairs at the back of his neck stand on end. Something was off, _very_ off. Sure, the thought of Maria's birthday present did make his skin go cold —for some stupid reason, he never seemed to get her the right present, and that was getting old…— but it was a feeling he would not –_could_ not- ignore.

"_Call Max," Michael had quietly said to Kyle, his eyes now looking out the window, searching for a movement, a shadow out of place, _something_ out there that was wrong with the picture. He had heard Kyle pressing the fast dial to Max's cell phone _—_the last day they had had their cell phones, since those would be forgotten on their hasty departure out of Mountain Motel, Colorado_—_ when Michael had finally found what he was so desperately trying to _not_ find. _

_At one corner of the far end of the motel _—_which was built in a "C" fashion, and their rooms where all in the mid section of it_—_ someone was crouching behind a car. Michael had barely gotten a glimpse of him, probably would have missed it if he had blinked, but the fact was that a man crouching behind a car at 1:00 a.m. was enough to make his skin go more than cold. If he had had the time, he would probably have marveled at the contradiction of feelings inside of him: A part of him had been petrified, the other part had raced through all the options he had available to get themselves out of there. _

"_Max is coming," Kyle said, still holding the cell phone, probably thinking about calling Isabel._

"_No!" Michael had answered back in a harsh _—_if quiet_—_ tone. Taking the device away from a very bewildered Kyle, he spoke into it, "They are here, come through the wall." Tossing the cell into Kyle's hands so he could then call Isabel, Michael returned his attention to the very unmoving outside. He couldn't see them, but he just knew that their hunters were moving out there, getting closer. _

_We have to get out of here now, Michael thought, not surprised to see a section of both walls at his sides disappearing into nothingness. Practice had paid off. Ever since they had started to stay in separate rooms, they had practiced materializing and de-materializing walls. Definitely a wise decision._

"_How many?" Max had said, his features grim in the pale moonlight, his eyes going directly to the window. They were some good three feet from it. No point in giving anyone a clear shot. Isabel joined them a second later, her eyes equally searching. The other three were gathering the few things they had with them. Especially the thick coats they would need in this cold weather. _

"_So far, one, behind that car. We should probably just get through the back wall…" Michael trailed off._

"_Except that you think they will cover the back exit…" Max said finishing Michael's unspoken words. _

"_We need a diversion," Liz had said from behind them, handing Max his coat._

"_Exactly," Isabel had agreed, her eyes focusing on the car that Michael had pointed out seconds before. Then the most terrifying thing happened: The window crashed as a gas bomb entered into their room, other windows crashing on the other two rooms. The gas started to pour as fast as Michael could send the metal artifact right back out of the room through the same window, a gesture more out of instinct than of reason._

_Max had put up his shield in that moment _—_and, hiding a short distance away, had made Steve Lewis and company, the three men that three days later would actually catch them in Dave's name, wonder what the hell the green light was, though this, of course, the gang hadn't known- the green energy mixing up with the gas, creating a weird mist inside and outside the room. _

_They are going to storm in here in two seconds, Michael wildly thought as he turned around to make a hole in the back wall. Besides the windows crashing, there had been barely any sounds. The six of them had been able to keep mute, _—_hardly suppressing their coughs because of the remnants of the gas_—_ knowing that any sound coming from outside was a desperate advantage over their enemy. As Michael made a narrow escape route, he heard an explosion. A big one._

_Isabel was standing with her right hand pointing at something outside, Max apparently having dropped the shield just for a second to give his sister the opportunity to aim. His green protection returned for another five seconds and, dropping it again, he let Isabel blow up another car in the other corner of the motel. By that point, Michael was already urging the other three to get ready to get out as he was putting on his own coat. _

"_We need to shield ourselves," Liz had said as Michael was peering outside, expecting to see a dozen FBI agents crawling out of the wood that was some fifteen feet away. Isabel was blowing up yet another car as Michael thoroughly searched. They were not going to come out of an ambush to just end up in another._

_There weren't a dozen, but three. And three was certainly a number he could manage. He was strong enough on any given day to send three people flying a good distance away, but add adrenaline into the mix, and Michael would send more than three people flying further than just a _good_ distance away. He had thought he had seen the last of them as his invisible force sent them through the air but, as ten seconds after he would know, he had been wrong._

_The sound of the forth car exploding overcame the sound of the shot, yet not the pain that it gave him. He had been melting snow in such a fast way, that the subsequent physical reaction that made the snow into vapor was creating the shield that Liz had said they needed. At 1:00 a.m. with mist surrounding them, they had a good chance to get out of there unseen. That was, of course, until he had been shot._

_The fifth and last car exploded as Michael collided with the wall, his left shoulder feeling like hell. Sure, he had been shot before, but that didn't mean it got any easier or painless with practice._

Michael absently ran his right hand over his left shoulder, the sensation so vivid in his mind he could almost believe he was going to find blood there. Max and Isabel had come out two seconds after, their combined strength not only truly sending those agents to fly away, but speeding the process of the growing mist. Then their run through the woods had begun. They had always parked one of the three cars they were using half a mile from where they were staying, making it their "escape" car just for precaution. And God, had they needed to escape that night.

Max had healed him some thirty feet into the woods, despite the fact that Michael was arguing he wouldn't allow him to do so until they were in the car. He was not going to slow them down. It sure hurt as hell times four, but he could run.

"_You are going to leave a blood trail," Max had said barely catching his breath before placing his hand over Michael's shoulder. Max wasn't asking if he wanted or not to be healed, he was giving a command. It took him over a minute to finish _—_probably because Max was already exhausted from using his shield_—_ and when he finally took his hand off, he gave a small smile to Michael. "And besides," he added, "I can run too after healing you."_

Granted, Max had been able to run, but Michael had known that once they got into the car he was sending Max into the back seat for a well needed sleep.

And a well needed sleep was exactly what Michael had lacked ever since that night. Now that he couldn't see the hour through the fried pieces that once were his clock alarm, Michael put his wrist watch in front of his face, with his other hand pressing the button that would light up the digital numbers: 5:58:58. Michael closed his eyes, resisting the urge of letting energy go wildly around his room, breaking the next best thing. It figured it would be this close to his waking hour.

He tried to let his mind go blank, which worked for about three seconds, when Kyle's words echoed in his head: _So, what are you going to give Maria for her birthday?_ Now, _that_ effectively made his energy go hunting for something breakable, and his Snapple bottle burst into little pieces, spilling its red contents over his night table at his right. God, this was going to be such a damned long day!

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At exactly 5:58:59 Dave placed piece #1947 on its place –and he _did_ notice the irony of that number. He knew that in order to finish this puzzle before his departure on Saturday night, he would have to put 2.08 pieces per minute during six days straight, sleeping only 4 hours each. Impossible? No, but it wasn't possible either. He should be by now placing the 2748 piece if he had been going for that goal. The puzzle was a distraction, but there sure were distracters to this hobby of his. In fact, if it weren't for Jake's help, he would be around piece 1235 by now. Oh right, Kyle had done his share yesterday, so let's not forget his 43 pieces of contribution.

Dave smiled. He was glad Kyle had started to put pieces together because that meant that at least on some level Kyle was feeling comfortable, or somehow safe, talking to him. If only today's interview were going to be that easy… Kyle had been the first because he was the outsider, but Michael had been the second because he was the toughest. To that adjective he could easily add defensive, distrustful, impulsive, suspicious and lots and lots of other ways of describing Michael's nature. The guy was a challenge, and Dave had a very distinctive hunch that Michael was not going to add a single piece to this puzzle.

What Dave hoped was that Michael would add _lots_ of pieces to the puzzle of who they were and what had they done during their lives. Life was made of details, memories archived in one's head, and Dave had to find the way of making them tell him those relevant pieces that would make the picture of their characters come into focus.

It was a strange feeling, Dave marveled while searching for the next piece, that he wanted and didn't want to meet with Michael in an hour. He had met with all kinds of people during his life, but Michael was one of a kind. They all were, he guessed, but Michael was going to be difficult to win over. _Difficult_ with a capital "d", bolded and underlined, please. Dave just knew that even if his plan worked and the six of them stayed in here as long as they should —or he hoped— Michael would never really trust him. It was, after all, in Michael's nature to be distrustful.

It wasn't okay, but Dave would have to settle down with the fact that Michael was here, under his wing, whether he was willingly doing it or not. He had spent the whole night thinking through what exactly he should say and could ask without the scenario turning into him stamped on the wall. Michael was capable of that and much more. Dave could judge a person's character pretty well, and he knew Michael wouldn't kill him except in an extreme situation. But the fact that Dave had thought if Michael could be potentially deadly was testimony to the extremes Dave was considering. He was nowhere near planning a confrontation with Max's best friend, but to know what one's opponent can be capable of was Tactics 101.

He wished for a brief second that Michael had taken Diplomacy 101, because then, in the complicated word-dance that was the diplomatic world, one pretty much knew the rules and how to play the game. But since that was out of the question, what was left? Plain boldness? An exchange of questions and answers? A very intricate mine field on which one was waiting for the other to miss a step and see him blowing up? Dave would probably go for "all of the above". He knew he needed to be honest with Michael —that was, _more_ honest with him than with anyone else— and that he would probably have to answer some questions too. Now, was he going to be able to evade the mines? Avoid answers that could potentially lead to lies that Dave would have to keep for years?

Because the problem with lying was exactly that: Maintenance. That was why Dave preferred _omissions_, which were a whole lot more manageable and easy to conceal. He wondered if Michael knew that. So far, he hadn't been able to tell how many lies and how many omissions Kyle had –or hadn't- told him, because he needed the others' accounts of events to compare, but he was intrigued about how much information Michael was willing to give.

Dave had been in the business of information more time than Michael's whole life, so he also knew that the fact that Michael was telling him something didn't automatically mean he was telling the truth, of course, but Dave could detect when someone was… _eager_ to talk in a situation where he shouldn't. Usually, that was when that someone was giving misinformation. Would Michael fall into that?

Michael was a mystery. After Tess, Michael was one of the key pieces that still remained with so many blanks. So many gaps to be filled in. Out of the six of them, Michael hadn't had a… well, caring home. Had missed school a lot, had pretty much remained a loner. When for some reason Max and Isabel were out of the picture, Michael had kept to himself. Placing another piece, he wondered for the millionth time how Maria had been able to intrude into Michael's world. Maybe he should have had Maria first…

Placing piece #1959, Dave wondered too how Max and Michael managed to actually get along. He had the distinct idea that Isabel had a lot to do with that, but he also wondered if there was a deeper bond than just the fact that they were the only three hybrids on the planet. Except for the truth, there was nothing that Dave valued more than true friendship, and he knew that not all friendships made sense. Two friends didn't have to be the same, or even alike to actually enjoy their time with the other.

The funny thing was that he should question Maria's and Liz's friendship as well, since both girls were at opposite extremes, but it always seemed easier for girls to get along with others. He guessed that what puzzled him about Max and Michael's friendship was that they wanted different things, but somehow converged toward a middle ground.

And how much of that friendship did they share with Isabel? Being the only girl in the group, especially someone as, well, _girlie_ as Isabel, must have been lonely. He would have been a little bit more accurate with that thought if he had actually heard Isabel's statement to Liz and Maria days before her wedding: _Since you guys are the closest thing I have to girlfriends…_

Of course, if he wanted to examine weird friendships, he should start with Jake and himself. Jake had told him yesterday that the Pod Squad –and he had to admit that pet name was growing on him— looked as bad as Dave had looked the first time they had met. Back then he was having an asthma attack, one of the worst he could remember, and truth to be told, Dave could barely remember Jake at all at that exact moment.

He remembered Jake had been the first person Dave had seen in his life with red hair, though Jake's wasn't all that red, it was more like brown with reddish tones. Even now, when his best friend was 43 years old, his hair looked just the same. Back in that day, Dave had also thought that Jake had freckles, but that had been a mistake. Those had been crumbs. The other thing that was just the same with Jake was he was as thin as ever. How could someone who ate at all times be that thin was a complete mystery to everyone who met Jake.

Jake had never really told him why he had been in the nursery that day, now that he was thinking about it. Not that it mattered now. They had started their friendship that day and thirty one years later they remained friends. They had never lost track of each other, though there had been a couple of years where they hadn't seen each other. It just hadn't been safe. And sure, Ray had come into the picture some eight years ago, and though both Jake and Dave respected him and did see him as a friend, Ray just wasn't the same. Ray hadn't lived through what they had. Dave sometimes wondered if Ray thought he wasn't as closed in the circle because he wasn't a genius. Oh, Dave knew, and Jake knew too, that sometimes they did leave Ray out in the cold, but they just couldn't help it.

Except that now Dave was leaving _both_ of them out in the cold with this plan of his, and… he couldn't help it. He knew things could potentially go easier if he actually confided in them, they might even see some angle he wasn't considering –which was unlikely, but it could be there. They wouldn't betray him, but… he had promised.

Jake had told him once that because he was an Aquarius he had his own moral code. Dave had laughed at that, because in some way, it was true. After the truth and friendship, keeping promises was third on his list. The problem with having a code was that, when you had to break it for something bigger, it didn't quite feel that good. He more than likely would end up lying to his friends just to keep secret his promise, his plan. And no matter how reasonable his motives were, he still didn't like that part.

Dave wondered too if Michael had lied to Max in order to protect him. Would Michael understand his motives to remain silent about the truth of why he wanted them here? Dave wasn't psychic, but he knew they must suspect something, and he would bet this whole complex that Michael suspected it more than the others. They would certainly find out sooner or later –a lot later than sooner, he certainly hoped— but he had to remain cautious until that moment came. He couldn't risk blowing it up.

-------------------------------------------------

Max had thought that today's walk to the Lab would have been easier, but he had been wrong. Part of him was glad that now Kyle was with the girls, but the other part of him was petrified about knowing that Michael was now with Dave too. Of course, if Max had known what Kyle had chosen to not tell them about his sparks, Max would find that his level of anxiousness could still go higher… way higher.

But since he was so mercifully ignorant, he tried to concentrate on staying calm and to actually convince Liz that everything was all right. This, thankfully, was immensely easier than yesterday since this time she actually believed it. She had teased him earlier about video games and he had teased her back about punching bags. They had been trying to start the morning lightly, and at least they had succeeded in not thinking this was going to be the last time they were going to see each other. That was, of course, if Michael didn't blow up Dave or something…

Michael had been quiet and had been pretty much annoyed at anything anyone had said when they were walking to the Gym. Max had wanted to ask him if he was all right, but knew he would only gain a scowl from his best friend. So he had let it go, only nodding at Michael when they had departed to their own corridors. The best thing Max could do for Michael was showing him he trusted him. And he did, he just didn't trust his impulsive acts…

Max desperately wanted to believe Liz's words about Michael knowing the stakes. Michael knew, of course, but Michael was also not sure that out there was worse than down here. Max wasn't sure either, especially when he was sitting in Jake's office, outside the real Lab. This place gave him the creeps, and there was nothing Jake could do or say to change that.

He and Isabel had arrived at Jake's Office/Lab five minutes ago and were now sitting on the same couch they had been yesterday. It was weird to be here without Michael, because it somehow made him feel less protected. Granted, he and his sister could take care of themselves, but there was an element of strength, both physical and mental, he guessed, to having Michael beside you. Because no matter where they were, Michael would always rise to the occasion. He was, well, dependable, Max realized a little bit startled.

No matter how impulsive he was or how many troubles Michael had gotten them into, Michael had always had their best interests at heart. Sure, Michael had the annoying habit of not thinking about consequences, but Michael acted out of good reasons. Now, if only Max could actually understood Michael's definition of _good reasons_, Max might not be worrying so much.

"You should have told me you wanted to talk to Liz yesterday," Jake was saying, bringing three Cherry Cokes with him. Max looked at him a little bit surprised.

"What do you mean?" he cautiously asked. Ray hadn't known about his connection with Liz, but Jake didn't know either? That gave him a glimmer of hope about hiding, lessening and exchanging their powers without being caught.

"Yesterday Ray told me Liz had been distracted all morning. The same applies to you. Apparently, you both were checking on each other or something like that?" Jake asked him, obviously wanting him to elaborate. Well, there was no point in denying it, Maria had told Ray, and it was going to be just ridiculous if they had to hide such a strong bonding.

"Yeah… we have this… we call it 'connection'…" Max answered, a little bit unsure. Unconsciously, he had raised his right hand to his right earlobe. "I feel what she's feeling and she feels what I'm feeling."

"My sympathies," Jake said passing the Cherry Cokes. Both Max and Isabel frowned at him, not knowing what to say, Max dropping his hand, still unconsciously. "I mean, out of ten emotions, women are going to understand ten, men only six. So, if you are dealing with a girl's emotions, I do not envy you at all. I bet you get lost in translation half the time."

Both Jake and Isabel smiled at that, Max wasn't sure if he liked it or not. Had he been missing on Liz's feelings? He didn't think so… Did Liz understand him way better than he did? Probably… Women…

"Does this go on between you and Jesse?" Jake was now asking Isabel, who lost her smile in a second.

"No," she answered seriously, almost icily.

That had been a very sore point when it came to compare the three couples. Jesse had never wanted to know a thing about alien powers until it had been too late. So, while Max could turn red roses into white and Michael could explode things in front of Maria when he was frustrated, Isabel couldn't show her love or let go her anger in any other way than the very normal and human ways which excluded alien powers. It wasn't fair. Their powers were so much of who they were. First she had hidden them, and then she was just too scared of scaring Jesse with them. So, no, no connection with Jesse could have been possible. Maybe if they had stayed together, and maybe if Jesse had seen the beauty of it, then it would have happened…

Jake must have sensed Isabel's distress with the whole subject, but Max guessed Jake didn't want to change it. Still, he didn't press Isabel for details.

"Do Michael and Maria…?" he tentatively asked. Anything they hadn't discussed should remain the same, Max reminded himself. This hadn't been discussed, and well… if Michael and Maria's bond actually got that strong…

"Sometimes," Isabel answered before him. "And it only happens from Michael's side."

"You mean Michael is the only one who feels Maria's feelings?" They both nodded. "Is there a why?" This time Max and Isabel exchanged glances.

"I think Michael doesn't want Maria feeling him," Max slowly said, not quite looking at Jake, certainly not wanting to elaborate on Michael's personal life.

"Hm…" Was Jake's only response to that, almost as if he could actually understand why Michael didn't want Maria feeling him. After a short pause, he looked straight at Max, "Has this had any effect on Liz or Maria?"

Max went cold. Did he know? Did he know about Liz's changes? A tiny little voice reminded him Jake had asked for both Liz _and_ Maria, so the question wasn't exclusive to Liz… no way Jake could know, right?

"What do you mean, 'effects'?" Isabel asked in a rather worried tone.

"Um, headaches, insomnia, tiredness, lack of appetite… hearing voices?" Jake said the last one joking, but Max wasn't feeling like laughing at all.

"Why do you think there could be 'effects'?" he asked, sounding every bit worried as Isabel had just ten seconds before.

"Are there?" Jake asked, dropping the humor, a little bit confused because of both Max's and Isabel's concern. Max didn't care. What was he talking about? Could there still be some hidden "effects" waiting to just jump over Liz's health? He had seen the _effects_ of healing Liz, but was he somehow hurting her now with their connection? For that moment Max totally closed his connection to Liz, something he would definitely need to explain in a major way later that day to his wife.

"I imagine that if there were, you would have already said so," Jake said after fifteen seconds of silence had gone by, both Evans wanting to know the new bad news. "Well, I'm just asking because it could be probable that, when you started this connection where someone else gets to feel you, you did so by stimulating areas of the brain that aren't usually working. Hence the changes."

Hence Liz's headaches, Max thought. She had had migraines because of her powers. So by taking care of the headaches, he had taken care of her powers too. And if this connection was somehow affecting her, well, there was just no choice to be made. The connection would have to go too. Still, he reminded himself that so far, nothing else had happened to Liz.

"Neither Liz or Maria has said anything about that… I mean, we were tired of running, but they never said anything different than the rest of us were feeling." Max looked at Isabel to corroborate his story and to, well, pass the unspoken message of _remember, Liz's powers _and_ headaches are out of the question._

"How long has this connection been going on?" Now Max was beginning to feel a little bit uncomfortable with talking about his powers. It probably was that he was talking about something as special as his bond with Liz. He didn't want anyone analyzing it and taking its magic away…

"For about a year, I guess… we weren't sure it was there, and even then, it wasn't there all the time." Still, a deal was a deal. And sure, there were a million other things they could do that would spark Jake's interest farther than something as "impractical" as his connection. And he had to factor in that this conversation could prevent bad things happening to his wife.

"Well, then she should be fine. Gradual changes are easily assimilated, you know. But," Jake said, his tone serious now, "if anything ever happens, tell me. Whatever deal you made with Dave, whatever the hell you think he wants from you, all _I_ care about is that _you_ are okay. Don't ever forget that."

Max turned to look at Isabel, who was in turn looking at him. Jake was asking them to trust him beyond Dave? It was hard enough to be here, and sure they had to trust that Jake would keep them safe over whatever Dave wanted. But, weren't the two of them together in this? So, what was Jake implying? That he didn't know what Dave's deal was? Or did he also suspect that whatever Dave wanted was as much a secret to him as it was to them?

Maybe, it was all a trap. Sure, whatever they weren't telling Dave they could easily tell Jake, who would end up telling his buddy. Full circle or something like that. Michael might be _the_ paranoid of the group, but Max was not far behind. And how did it go? _It ain't paranoia if you are actually being followed._

"I know," Jake sighed, opening his Cherry Coke, "you don't believe a word I say, but all the same I had to say it."

"You don't want us to trust you then?" Isabel asked, a little bit confused. Max knew that Isabel had thought pretty much the same he did, but she had a point: Wouldn't Jake do anything in his power to make them trust him? Because that last sentence wasn't much on the 'trust-me' theory…

"After two days of seeing my face? Hell no! That would be stupid of you. You are scared, trapped in an environment you've never been in or seen before, surrounded by strangers… really stupid. But you have to trust someone at some point if something is wrong with any of you. I'm not joking. You can have all your secrets and games with Dave, that's what he suspects you are doing and what you suspect he's doing, but cut the crap with me. I'm not going to be in the middle of you two." Jake ended, now standing in front of them, pacing. With time, they would get used to Jake's pacing and the fact that Jake never seemed to notice he was doing it. All the same, both Isabel and Max were staring at him. That had been a very convincing speech, paranoia or no paranoia.

Taking a sip from his Cherry Coke, Jake took his seat again. Max could have sworn that Jake was blushing, and that the drinking act was just that, an act to cover it up. Since this morning Max and company had actually had breakfast, neither Isabel or he had opened their cans. They just didn't feel like drinking right now, but since Jake's eyes kept turning to their unopened sodas, Max finally gave in. He guessed a little gesture of… _cooperation_ couldn't hurt.

"That settled down, about no one getting side effects for your potential connections," Jake said a little bit sheepish, "what about you? Do you have connections of your own?"

"You mean with each other," Isabel said glancing at Max, then looking back at Jake.

"Yeah, some sort of telepathy, empathy… any type of connection?"

Both siblings looked at each other. There wasn't any sort of connection between them. In fact, when Tess had announced to Michael and Isabel that she would have felt if something happened to Max, they had been puzzled. Would Tess have been really capable of that? Would they some day in the future? Because when Max had actually died, only Liz had truly felt it.

"We sort of can connect with anyone," Max started, doubting every word, "and that would apply to each other I guess… we just rarely ever do it." Max ended up almost whispering. He hadn't thought he was going to have such a hard time talking openly about his powers. Well, maybe that time with his parents after they had found out about the truth, but this was entirely different. Jake was seeking explanations, so Max felt as if his every word was being measured.

"I was aiming for something that only happened between the three of you… maybe just the two of you, since you are brother and sister." Jake said, clearly eager to know more, but being patient all the same. Max felt as if Jake had all the time in the world to listen to them. That was weird. It made him feel as if he _should_ fill in the space, not leaving Jake waiting.

"Well…" Isabel started, looking at him almost as if she were asking for permission. Max frowned. Where was Isabel going? "There was this, I don't know what it was… It was something like, this sort of communication when we first emerged from the pods."

If Max had been drinking, he would have probably spat it all out. He had completely forgotten about that right this moment, but why was Isabel telling it? Sure, there was no harm in it –apparently— but the less they said, the better he would feel.

"You don't remember it?" Jake asked Max now, and Max was forced to refocus on the fact that he wasn't alone with his sister in this room, much less alone with his own musings.

"I remember we did it, I just don't remember _how_ we were doing it. Besides, it faded when we started to talk. We never regained it again." Which was the truth. Maybe Isabel was getting the same feeling of not wanting to leave spaces in this conversation… But in contrast with Michael's impulsive acts, Isabel wasn't the act now and think later type of person –thank goodness, one in the group was enough— so Max was trusting that she had some very good reasons for talking about this.

"Okay…" Jake said, a little bit thoughtful. It looked as if he wanted to ask or say something else, but was deciding against it. Max and Isabel exchanged glances again. "What about connecting with things? Psychometry?"

"Connecting with things?" Isabel said a little bit confused and annoyed. Max was taken aback as well.

"You mean flashes?" Max said, trying to understand. The term psychometry did ring a bell somewhere in his head, but he couldn't place where.

Jake smiled. "Same language and we do not understand ourselves. Let's see, last time I checked the definition, it meant getting psychic vibrations from objects. Do you get images or feelings from the past, present or future by touching things?"

Tricky question. Fortunately, _this_ one they had discussed, so they were ready for it.

"We sometimes get flashes from the past, but so far, only the past." Isabel answered, and it was just a brilliant answer. _So far_, meaning that she was leaving open the door just in case Liz got her powers back and they had to fake seeing the future.

"And it barely happens at all," Max elaborated. Actually, he was eager to develop this rare power of theirs.

"Happens? You mean you don't control it?" Jake looked puzzled. Isabel and Max shook their head in a negative answer.

"It only happens when we are in intense situations," Max said, his voice sounding more secure now than when he was talking about connections. "We touch some thing and we get some images and feelings from it, but that's it. They never last too long either… just a couple of seconds."

Jake slowly nodded, but he still looked puzzled. "Are there any other things that just happen?" When both shook their heads again, Jake leaned forward, "Have you ever lost control over your abilities?"

Max felt himself immediately blush. The one and only time he had completely lost control over his powers wasn't exactly one to be proud of. And sure, there had been minor incidents when they were kids, but nothing major… And Michael had lost control of them out of jealousy that one time… and he kept exploding things at _all_ times… And, though Max couldn't really say she lost them, when Isabel got furious, things did tend to fly around…

"By the silence of you two, I would say the answer is 'yes, but we won't tell you'…" Gosh, why was Max feeling like a little kid in front of his teacher in elementary school? The room remained silent. "Okay…" Jake said slowly, "let me rephrase it: Do you lose control _often_?"

"No," both said at the same time, a little bit offended. But then again, if Michael had been with them, that "no" might not had been all that accurate.

"Okay, I believe you," Jake extended his hands in a peace gesture, "all I wanted to know was if we are going to need more security measures around here if you are going to start exploding things without previous warning."

"You might want to hold to that if Michael is in a bad mood," Isabel advised him, glancing at her watch. It was barely 7:16 a.m., and just like his, her thoughts were probably trying to figure out if Dave's office was still in one piece.

"Is he often in a bad mood?" When both kids slowly nodded, Jake lifted his right hand to his nose bridge, in a gesture Max had seen people who wore glasses do all the time. Except that, in these two days, Jake hadn't worn glasses at all. "Are you sure you kids want to do this? I know you made some sort of deal, but I really don't want you exploding things out of rage."

What exactly were they supposed to answer? Well, we are not thrilled, but our options are to be out there, running for our lives or to give ourselves to the FBI? For the first time that day, Max was glad that Michael wasn't here. Max could certainly imagine _his_ answer to this… That idea also gave him a very good insight as to why Jake was asking these questions today and hadn't done so yesterday. Maybe he wanted Michael out of the room as well… All the same, both siblings remained silent.

"Do you even see any advantage by doing this?" Jake asked half desperate, half irritated.

"Sure…" Isabel started, and then she glanced at Max, clearly wanting him to continue… or more likely, wanting him to blow this up instead of her. Tension was hanging on the air.

"We are just not used to be so open about this…" Max said, thinking through every single word. "Like you said, it's been only two days…"

Jake relaxed a little, just a little. "But you _do_ see the advantages, right?"

"We do want to get better…" Isabel started. And okay, that was in part the truth; they did want to get better so they could have a better chance once the deal was over… And they had guessed there was some truth about really knowing how their powers work so they could do other things… but they really weren't all that convinced…

Jake closed his eyes and placed his hand made into fist below his chin. He was clearly thinking something through. Both Max and Isabel stopped trying to figure out the best way to get out of this awkward situation, and let the man in front of them think in silence. "What about this?" Jake suddenly said thirty seconds later, "I'll elaborate scenarios that you might find useful once you decide to get out there again. You can even create them yourselves and we'll see how you can escape from those situations. We can even ask Ray, he's an expert on ambushes." By this point, Jake was at the edge of standing up and, yes, starting to pace, but he stopped himself before letting his imagination go. "Would that give you enough motivation to want to come down here five days of the week? If you can learn how to escape?"

Max had to admit that it did sound promising, but part of him couldn't let go the nagging feeling that there was a catch. Still, since there really wasn't much a difference between if they wanted to come because all the same they had to come, Isabel and Max said yes a little bit more enthusiastically so Jake wouldn't feel so down.

Later that day, Max would think that the idea had great potential and would feel more comfortable with it. Of course, even _later_ that day, he would also think that this would show Jake –and Dave- exactly what their weak points were, but then again, they had been caught by these people already… All the same, in that moment where they were nodding, Max just hoped that Michael was going to be okay with this… and that he was actually okay right now up there.


	13. Hiding

Thanks for coming back to read! Thanks a bunch to my reviewers too! Though I have already written 25 chapters, it's really helpful to get insights so I can go back and correct things, or add things. Once you catch up with me, well… I'm not going to update as fast, but rest assure that the whole plot is already in my head, all up to the last scene ;)

**-- Side Note --** if Dave knew that his interview with Michael is actually chapter 13, he would really laugh at his luck :D

**XIII**

**Hiding**

The windows almost trembled. _Almost._ Michael would have been surprised at how well he was holding in his energy if his attention had been pinned on that. He would have been surprised too if he had known that Dave wasn't feeling all that safe in that room with him so close to making the windows tremble. Though the room was silent, there was this… _tension_, he guessed, all around them that made that silence oppressive.

Both men's eyes remained locked on each other's. By 7:19 a.m. both had pretty much forgotten their expectations of an easy talk. When Michael had crossed that door fourteen minutes before –and he hadn't really bothered with checking if he had been exactly on time, thinking that Dave should be thankful he was _around_ the time— Michael had been sending this… coldness. He just couldn't help it. He had been working himself up since 5:23 a.m. just as badly as he did when he was arguing with an imaginary Maria.

They had both saluted with a short nod, Michael taking the same seat Kyle had taken the day before, Dave putting the piece he had in his right hand over the desk. Kyle hadn't been joking. It was a huge desk, and the puzzle's frame was occupying a good part of it. Apparently, Dave had been working on a corner of it, since a large part was already put together. This Michael noticed while quickly scanning the whole room.

It was lightly snowing from what he could see out the windows behind Dave. It was still dark outside and it wouldn't turn any brighter till around 8:00 a.m. The right wall was bare, with a large cupboard from one corner to the other. On the left wall was this big white square with black numbers on it. What the hell? Then his eyes had returned to Dave, who had been looking straight at him.

"_How did they convince you?" Dave had asked without saying anything else. Michael had frowned at him, not sure if he was understanding the question, expecting Dave to be more specific. _

"_What do you mean?" Michael had replied, his tone defensive._

"_I know you don't want to be here, so I'm wondering _why_ you are actually here." Michael had been tempted to play with semantics and cynicism and word games –he was just in the right mood for that- but decided against it. He was not going to gain a thing by going in circles. Besides, what was the point in answering anything other than what was being asked?_

"_They convinced me. That's all that should matter to you." So, if Dave knew so much about them, he should know about him not being the talkative type._

"_Of course it matters to me—" Dave had started, but Michael had cut him off._

"_I bet it does. That way you can have a better idea of how to play with whatever we want." Michael had been repressing way too many things, frustration evident in his voice. Now that he was having the chance to say exactly what was on his mind to the right person, he was not going to stop._

"_Is that what you think? That I'm playing with you?" Dave had asked him in a calm voice, with a slight frown._

_Michael had let go a sarcastic laugh, and then returned his eyes to Dave's. "You played with our fears. You put us in those damned rooms as if we were prisoners, letting us believe the worst had finally come. You kidnapped us in the middle of the night without us being aware of it so we couldn't have a clue of what was happening. You let us go so we reached the conclusion it was okay, that you were telling us the truth, when in reality we don't know a thing about anything, much less about you. You keep playing with us," Michael almost shouted, his eyes burning, "at every turn we make and with whatever we want!"_

"_I played with your beliefs just to show you that not everyone that is out there to get you means you harm," Dave answered, still calm, but his voice had gained some volume._

"_Bullshit!" This time Michael did shout, barely restraining his energy from blowing up the ceiling's white lamp. "What the hell do you really want from us!"_

That had been the last question to echo in that room, and that was why they both were now staring at each other, the windows almost trembling behind Dave. Michael was waiting to hear some stupid story, not knowing at all how close Dave actually was to telling him the truth. Actually, Michael would not know that for another eight years.

Just as Jake was getting to know some 130 feet below, Michael was neither a telepath nor a mind reader, because if he had been, he would have clearly read this from Dave: _So much for the let's-avoid-mines theory… _Dave leaned over his desk, carefully avoiding his pieces so they wouldn't end up on the floor, and kept his eyes on Michael's.

"Why don't you tell me what exactly I'm after. Tell me why I keep playing with you, because I'm sure that it doesn't matter what I tell you, you won't believe me."

Michael scowled at him. What? Was Dave going to admit whatever came out of Michael's mouth? Yeah, right… This was a very effective way of not answering, but if Michael could turn this around, he could actually end up with some real answers.

"You want us to feel safe," Michael started, leaning over the desk, slightly narrowing his eyes. "You want us to believe this was the best thing we could have done."

Dave smiled. "But you think you aren't safe and that there is, or at least was, a better option."

"Don't play with my words," Michael said in a deadly tone.

"I'm not. You are right. You aren't safe Michael, you aren't safe here, or anywhere on this planet. What you are will hunt you all your life, and you certainly know that better than I do. Now, is this the best thing you could have done? I can't see the future, so I can't really answer that." Dave finished, hardly raising his voice, hardly even blinking.

He was doing it again. Dave was playing with him and Michael was just feeling helpless around this man's tricks. But since he was being so brutally honest, Michael had nothing to lose.

"If you are all that great, if you knew your offer was so damned great too, then why the hell didn't you just come one day and tell us that? Why take us in the middle of the night? What the hell were you planning when you did that?"

Dave's hazel eyes brightened for a second. He was expecting this question and Michael felt uncomfortable at that thought. It was as if Dave already knew what Michael was thinking, and the thought of being known so damned well wasn't a nice one. Especially to Michael.

Dave leaned back in his chair. "I thought about forty-three scenarios for our first meeting, that is, the whole group and myself. I went over and over all of them in my head for months trying to decipher how to approach you all. How to earn your trust, how to take you off the roads. And trust me, it wasn't easy. And do you know what the most difficult part was? You." Dave said, with a very slight smile.

"What?" Michael said in that curt way of his.

"Out of everyone in your group… Are you really not going to tell me how they convinced you to accept my offer?" Dave asked in a good natured way, but was greeted with what Jake would have called "the mother of all icebergs", and a look that clearly said "don't push it".

"You haven't answered my question," Michael said, his muscles rigid, the tension returning to the air. He was in no mood for good natured questions. Hell, not even for good natured answers, if it came to that.

"No, I haven't," Dave said, standing up to reach for a piece. "You are all like these pieces, these few pieces that don't make sense, either alone or put together." Dave started to say, not looking at Michael at all. "When I first found out about you, I was fascinated. But you were just kids. You had lives of your own. So I just watched you from afar. And all that time I was wondering, 'What would happen to these kids if someone else find out?' And the answer was never pretty."

"So you just appointed yourself as our Guardian Angel? How thoughtful…" Michael said with more than just an edge of sarcasm. Dave was deliberately striding away from the point, and Michael had no intention on letting him off the hook. However, this time, Dave did look up from his pieces, and as usual, smiled.

"I was more like a shadow. But you see Michael, shadows can learn if they stay long enough. And when I found out that you had run for your lives that night, I knew that my chances of ever meeting you had pretty much been reduced to zero. You wouldn't trust anyone outside your group."

"What makes you think we trust you now?" Michael asked, half annoyed, half daring.

"You are here, aren't you?" Dave answered back, earning a long ago patented Michael scowl. He was pushing too much.

Dave took another piece. "I took you in the middle of the night because I needed you to know how easy it could happen. How easy it was for someone like me to track you down and make you disappear."

"_We have already been caught."_ Max's words echoed in Michael's head, words that had been said in a Suburban at 1:00 a.m. only three days ago, "_That was the whole point of keeping us apart, as if we were in a real prison, so we could know it can happen to us; that we are sitting ducks like you said."_

"You were kept apart so you could really taste the fear of being alone. I could have made it worse, haven't you thought about that?" This time Dave's tone was… darker. A tone that made Michael's skin crawl. "I could have kept you apart for miles and not let you know the others were okay for months. I could have isolated you. I could have threatened you into accepting the offer."

"But you were playing with us all the time," Michael said with a confidence he was not exactly completely feeling, but with an anger that was 100 there.

Dave stayed still, not leaving Michael's eyes. "Yes Michael, I was playing with you," Dave admitted, his tone serene, serious. "I was playing every trick I could think of so you would accept. As you had said, I had this great offer, but I couldn't really back it up. You had never heard about me, you had no intention of trusting anyone. So I had to prove, or to at least try to prove, that with all I could have done to you, I still wanted you to accept out of free will, that I was telling the truth. If you decided to leave, you already had a glimpse of what would happen to you out there if you were caught. But if you stayed, then you just might be safe with me."

And it had worked. Max had believed him. Liz had believed him. Hell, they all had, and had convinced Michael into believing in him too. And Michael had to admit that so far, Dave had pretty much backed his side of the offer. But for how long? And still, there was that unanswered question hanging in the air.

"Why?" Michael asked, breaking the silence that had momentarily fallen over them again. "Why do you want us?"

"I've already told you that on Saturday," Dave said, his eyes dropping to his puzzle, tirelessly searching. "I want to study you."

"Yeah, right," Michael said, not believing one word of Dave's last statement. Just like Max, Michael could feel something was wrong, just not as strongly as his best friend did. It was a feeling born out of his distrustful nature. All the same, both Max and Michael knew there was something else that Dave wanted. "That's just not enough. You want something else."

"Not enough?" Dave said, astonished –or at least feigning he was astonished- and placing both his hands on the desk, he pinned Michael with his eyes. "Do you have any idea what you represent?" Michael blinked, Dave's serious and bewildering tone had taken him aback. That didn't sound fake.

When silence was Michael's answer, Dave slightly shook his head. "Where do I start?" Dave murmured more to himself than to Michael. "It is not entirely the fact that you are part alien, Michael, but that you are part human too. You are _advanced_ humans. Do you know what that means for the study of our future selves? Neurology alone would write entire libraries just by what you can do. 'Mind over matter' would take a completely different meaning. Your DNA structure has all these infinite possibilities not just in Biology, but possibly in the medical field. You are clones too. Heck, we are happy we can clone mice, when you are living proof that one can clone entire lives, memories and personalities. And speaking of clones, you _are _hybrids, two entirely different and unrelated species perfectly mixed into one, perfectly functioning... And I can go on and on Michael. So let me know what exactly your definition of 'not enough' is, so I'll see what I can do about it."

Three seconds passed before Michael answered in a very confused and somehow outraged tone, "you want to profit from us?"

To Michael's surprise, Dave laughed, all seriousness gone, which actually made Michael feel even more annoyed at this situation, at this man who kept playing with every word he said and with every movement he made.

"Not everything is money in life, Michael," Dave said, sitting, his serious tone returning, just a little bit less, well, serious. "I have had only one love in this life, Michael, and that is knowledge. Yes, I made a living out of it, but that's just a secondary effect. Ignorance is our worst enemy. So, you see, you are really valuable to me because I can learn so much from you."

Michael wasn't convinced. There was still something off in here, but he couldn't place it. Dave was very convincing, he had to give the man credit for that, but…

"And speaking of learning," Dave cut off Michael's train of thought, "I met Mrs. Dunlop."

Michael's train of thought collapsed into one of the worst train disasters in Michael's mind.

"What did you say?" He slowly, quietly, asked. He could feel his muscles tensing even more, and knew that those windows were not going to stay in place for very long now.

Mrs. Dunlop was an old lady that lived at the Old Chisholm Trail Trailer Park. She had been the only decent person in that place, and had taken some care of him, even babysitting him a few times when Hank had been away for too long or just way too drunk to take care of a seven-year old. She had an incredible book collection. That was, incredible for the tiny trailer she lived in. It was because of her that Michael had learned the value of lecture, and books. Before Max and Isabel had finally come into his life, Michael had spent a lot of afternoons with one or another of Mrs. Dunlop's books. She hadn't exactly lent them to him, but she had never missed a single one when he had taken them.

It was in Mrs. Dunlop's collection that Michael had found out all about the Roswell Incident. She had told him once that it was only natural she had all those "conspiracy" books since they lived in the town that had seen aliens running in the streets. She was also subscribed to three different UFO magazines, and by the age of eight, Michael was eagerly awaiting those every single month. Even when he had been fifteen years old, he had still waited for them.

But once he had moved out of the trailer park, he had never returned. A tiny part of him felt a little bit guilty for not visiting her, but they weren't all that close, he argued to himself. Besides, Mrs. Dunlop was friends with everyone in that place, so she hadn't exactly been heart broken by his departure, much less stayed all alone and by herself.

Still, Mrs. Dunlop had made life in that hell bearable during his childhood, and Michael did thank her for that. He could still remember the first time he had "borrowed" Ulysses from her bookshelf. The only good memories he had from those years when he had been all alone on this planet came from that trailer, that bookshelf, and those books.

"She's a really interesting person," Dave said, starting again with his puzzle. Kyle had also been right about the fact that it was freaking maddening to see that man so absorbed in that stupid thing.

"What did you do to her?" Michael's tone gained volume, and it was not going to take much time before he started shouting again. He was truly barely under control.

"I had a nice chat with her."

"You told Kyle you had never been in Roswell."

"And I was telling the truth. I made her win a trip to Florida. I met her on the plane." Dave didn't look up to him, his eyes scouting for the next piece, his fingers flipping and flipping face up each tiny part of the puzzle.

"Why?" Michael asked cautiously. Suddenly this man seemed more dangerous now than at any other time since they had met him. How much did he know? How had he known about Mrs. Dunlop in the first place?

"Because I needed answers to your past. You were the most difficult one to get to know. Didn't you wonder why all those books were in your room?"

Um…no. He had been too absorbed in how to get out of there and in the well-being of all the others to actually think why these people knew about those books. And even if he had done that, he would have probably not seen the connection between those books and Mrs. Dunlop. Sure enough, despite whatever Isabel had said, he did go to the Public Library, so the books would have had his name on the library cards. It was a no-braniac trail to follow.

"How did you find out about her?" Michael didn't lose his cautiousness –something Max would have been really proud of- but somehow felt vulnerable. Infinitely powerless in front of this man that seemed to know just about everything there was to know about them. But if that was the case, why was he having this conversation? In that instant Michael realized just how much Dave could know but still how much there was that he _didn't_ know. Why? Why had this man been able to trace an old woman in a trailer park but hadn't known about all that Kyle had told him just yesterday? Even if Dave still looked dangerous to him, he had lost all his omnipresence in that room. Though this man was powerful, he still was just that: A man.

"We visited your old place. Stayed around for a couple of months, too." Dave said with pride, a kid being proud for doing a particularly difficult assignment well.

"We?"

"My crew and myself. Well, I just read the reports, but three of my men rented spaces there, finally found her. You have to be very cautious when you want to know about someone and don't want anyone knowing that you want that information. So, to casually inquire about you was an extremely difficult task. You weren't exactly the friendly type when you lived there. In fact, most people thought that you were either dead, or in jail, or had died in jail."

"I bet…" Michael said coldly. Dave had sent men to live there? And what about Kyle? What about those 14 or 15 cars Dave had told him he had sent to Toby's place? "You sent people all over Roswell looking for pieces of our past?" Michael asked leaning over the desk. So this was why he knew about their early lives, but not about their real lives now… the picture was coming into focus now for Michael.

"Of course I did. The new Janitor a year and a half ago. Mr. Evans' new secretary around the same time. Maria's new neighbors a year ago. The new transfer kid in Freshman year… She was damned convincing, you know?" Michael frowned, his brain speeding. What kid? When?

Dave seemed to know exactly why Michael was confused, and continued. "Last year, when you were Seniors. It's a really useful thing that older kids never notice the younger ones. She made up this story about having the biggest crush in history first on you and then on Max. Gave her free pass to all knowledge about you. It was only natural her new friends would help her out with rumors and gossips."

"You recruited a teenage girl?" Michael said, not entirely unconvinced. He had no doubt this man was capable of that. If he remembered correctly, Maria's new neighbors had five-year old hurricane twins. Not exactly your average spies…

"Hell, I would like to find more people like her, to tell you the truth. It's not common, but teenaged people have this stereotype about not being reliable or even capable of doing important things like, let's say, espionage, which makes them perfect for the occasion. I never went to high school, but from what I've heard, that place is the perfect training ground for that kind of thing. And the gossip networks… the FBI, NSA, CIA and all the letters of the alphabet should envy not only the files those people keep on each other, but the speed with which information can be sent and obtained."

"I've never really cared about rumors," Michael said dismissively, thinking that Dave's attempt at humor was even worse than Kyle's.

"Exactly. That's why neither of you found out about her in the first place. But what were you doing instead of listening to high school gossips? What were you doing in Sophmore year or when you were Juniors?"

"Why don't you tell me? You seem to know everything about us," Michael said in that cold voice that had apparently set on his vocal cords.

Dave smiled. A _knowing_ smile. Again, Michael had the feeling that Dave had just known he was going to ask about that. And again he didn't like it.

"You already know I don't," Dave said, forgetting about his puzzle for once. "I did my homework as well as I could, but there are things that were beyond other people's knowledge. I researched about your lives as other people knew them. I not only met with Mrs. Dunlop, but with more people that you probably won't even remember."

"You want me to believe that you spent all those resources tracking down other people but that you didn't have anyone on our tail all the time? How the hell did you find us in Colorado in the first place? Asking directions?"

It could have been Michael's imagination, but he would have sworn that Dave's eyes had turned a shade darker. He was used to seeing Liz's eyes changing shades depending on her mood, so he didn't really dismiss Dave's change either. Something in his last words had touched a chord inside that man's head.

"I wish it had been that easy," Dave enigmatically answered. "As much as I wanted to 'tail' you, as you put it, it was too much of a risk. I could have put a team on you 24/7, that's true, but that would have let others know about my… interest in you. Leaks happen, you know? And since I know all about leaks and informants and, well, espionage, I didn't want to risk someone else finding out about you.

"But on the other hand," Dave continued, "I could put separate teams, unrelated people to research about the people who had known you. It was still risky, but it was better than nothing. And then you just disappeared in the middle of the night. That truly took me by surprise."

"How could you not know about the Special Unit?" Michael asked abruptly. "Why did you take so long to present yourself? If you are such an altruistic person, how can you explain that?" Michael was angry now. He could somehow sense Dave holding back, holding something important back, and he didn't like it. So he was now trying to put Dave against the wall –in a figurative way, of course- trying to trick him into actually telling him the truth.

"The Special Unit was a big mistake, I do recognize that. I thought it was over, that the agents that still remained didn't have the resources to keep tracking you down. Now, the military base was _your _mistake. They wouldn't have gotten the resources if it hadn't been for the Army."

"We didn't know Tess was going to blow up the base," Michael said exasperated, for the first time lowering his eyes before Dave.

"She had lost her son. You didn't know her well enough to think she would avenge him?"

Michael tried to not look surprised at that. Of course Kyle had already spread the story. Max's son had died during an altercation with the Army, and Tess had decided to blow up the base. If that had actually happened, Michael wasn't sure if Max wouldn't have helped Tess out on that one.

"It happened too fast," Michael quietly said. "We didn't have time to react… Tess just came out of nowhere, bringing the Army behind her and Zan… It was just too fast… Next thing we knew, Zan was gone and so was Tess. When the base blew up, we didn't have any doubt about what had happened." Michael finished, hoping that would be enough.

"How did Max take it? Didn't he want to blow up the base too?"

"We all did," Michael answered, a little bit surprised at how true his words were. The anger in his voice helped tons with sounding convincing too. "We grieved for a while, but I guess it was for the best. Our lives just became a wreck after that, living on the road. That was no life for a child. Besides, running with a baby would have been just chaotic… pretty much impossible." That was a very cold thing to say, Michael reflected, even for himself. But it was also the truth, and why Max had decided to give Zan away as well. They, and Zan, had way better chances of staying alive without each other.

"That is true," Dave quietly reflected from his side of the desk. Actually, he remained quiet for some time too. Enough to make Michael start to feel really uncomfortable in that place. His eyes started to divert from Dave's fingers to the windows behind, then to the cupboard to the left and, finally, to the numbers on the right. There was something odd with those numbers, Michael noticed. He could sense there was a pattern, but he couldn't place it. It was like the time he had –or had thought he had- deciphered the map in the cave. He knew there was a code, if he could only break it.

"Do you like numbers, Michael?" Dave suddenly asked, Michael turning his head in a second to look at the man, trying to not look as if he had been caught.

"Didn't see my report card?" Michael defiantly answered. Dave gave him a broad smile.

"Of course I did. As many things with all of you, it didn't make sense." Michael frowned; Dave leaned back in his chair, leaving his pieces for a while. "You didn't take any test seriously, that is, when you actually took them, all High School. And then, all of the sudden, you want to attend Biology your senior year. You also wanted to take regular attendance to your other classes… For someone who doesn't give a damn about school, as your grades would suggest, you made the teachers talk quite a bit when you started to show up."

Dave's comments were making Michael wonder again exactly how much this man really knew about them and what had happened. Hadn't Kyle already told him that they had almost left the planet two years ago? It couldn't take a genius to decipher that Michael had been planning on leaving, and once stranded here, well…

"Besides, why would someone who has read the kind of books you've read not take school at least slightly seriously? That is, before senior year…"

"That is no mystery," Michael said dismissively again. Maybe what Dave was doing was comparing both stories to see how similar or different they were. "I knew beyond a doubt that there was no future off of this God forsaken planet for me once the ship left." He had also deliberately avoided saying the "Granolith", more out of instinct than of reason. "Once I was stuck here, I figured I needed to attend school on a more regular base," Michael finished with a little sarcasm.

"But things kept happening, didn't they?" Dave asked, still leaning against the back of the chair. "Because for someone who has realized he has to make a future on this God forsaken planet, you still flunked out. But," Dave said raising a hand before Michael could say anything, "this time, you _did_ take the tests seriously. So seriously that half of your teachers thought you were cheating."

Michael narrowed his eyes, more at the memory than at Dave's words. It was true. He had taken some tests twice –not gladly- just to prove he _knew_ the answers. Stupid things that _anyone_ should know, for crying out loud. Of course, if Max hadn't expected him to know the meaning of _ephemeral,_ how could he expect those idiots he had for teachers to accept he had studied?

All the same, it wasn't that he didn't know, it was that he wasn't showing up for the tests to begin with. Not only were there unexpected things like Khivar in California, or Maria dumping him, or Max dying, but he also had two jobs to keep, friends to pass time with and last but not least, the whole Jesse thing. By the time Tess had crashed, he had pretty much known there was no chance at all he was graduating that year. So, while Max had been studying with Liz, he had had all the time in the world to investigate… Just as Dave had said a minute ago, things kept happening, and school was just not at the top of his priorities.

Michael just scowled. He knew Dave was expecting him to tell him what exactly those keep-happening-things were, and Michael was just not that easy on giving answers.

"I cheated on my tests too," Dave said lowering his voice a little, leaning over the desk.

"I _didn't_ cheat on those," Michael said even in a lower tone, angry. Why did people think he couldn't do that without cheating? Dave smiled a different smile this time. It was one of someone who is remembering something funny.

"I failed every single test I took just to piss people off." What? Michael stared at Dave, who stared at him back. "You see, there are more uses for cheating than to just pass. You could have passed those tests, all by yourself, but you didn't care to. You cheated, because you weren't telling all you knew. I cheated, because I didn't want them to know how much I knew as well."

Where was Dave going? Was he going to said "so, you see, we are not that different after all?" Please…

"I thought you had said you hadn't gone to High School." Michael said out of the blue. His memory could impress him sometimes.

"That doesn't mean I didn't take tests…" Dave said in an even darker tone now than the one he had used before. "You were smart in keeping things to you. I admire that trait. I mean, from you, I can understand it, but from Max and Isabel… why didn't they tell their parents at the first chance? Or anyone? How exciting must it have been to find out you could do these things that no one else could, and yet not tell a soul…"

"It isn't that great…" Michael let the comment slip, and mentally slapped himself for it. Was he feeling comfortable now? Stupid mistake. He didn't continue the sentence, and Dave didn't press him either. Silence fell over them for the third time in half an hour.

Michael's eyes diverted again to anywhere but the man seated in front of him. To the cupboard, to the windows, to the numbers. Anything but Dave's eyes.

"How do you build something like this and keep it secret?" Michael finally found something to ask, something to take the conversation somewhere else but his powers. Dave didn't seem to mind Michael's change of subject, a man who knew his answers would come sooner or later.

"You don't. I mean, you don't build it. You make others build it, then you make others buy it under the name of yet other people. Then you make other people come and rebuild it, thinking they are working for the first people who built it. Then— Well, it's tricky, and it takes time… but once everything is done, you keep it to yourself, just like your abilities, I guess. You don't tell a soul."

"You have just told me," Michael said, almost daring him.

"Oh, yes. And everyone who works and lives in this place also know about it." Michael blinked. Of course he had thought about all these people down here, but he hadn't been all that interested in them to begin with. "It's all a matter of perspective. Why they are here is a whole different reason from why you are here, but they do want this place to continue being their home and work place. Once they finish their projects, they are usually placed in other places where they want to be, and have no interest in revealing this place. Their silence is better than answering rightly to other people's questions. Just like the tests we both avoided, it's better to let people think that we don't know."

So, how many things was Dave feigning ignorance about? And why was he telling Michael in such an open way that Dave was so used to lying and "cheating"? It wasn't doing wonders on the trust-in-me side of the list.

"How did Maria find about you?" Dave asked Michael, the question mentally shaking his thoughts. Michael tensed at the mention of Maria's name. "I mean, I know the risks of keeping this place secret, but I can only imagine what the risks of keeping your secret are."

"Liz told her," he dryly said.

"And Liz found out because Max saved her… Why did he tell her the truth?"

"Because he's Max," Michael curtly answered. He didn't like where this conversation was going. In fact, he didn't like talking about them at all. And now that he was thinking about it, what would Dave do if he just stood up and walked away? Kick them out of the complex?

"Why did Maria stay?"

"Where else was she going to go?" Michael answered, shrugging. The idea of just executing his latest thought was coming into shape in his mind.

"So, why did _you_ stay?"

"You know, I'm thinking exactly the same thing, why am I staying in here?"

"Oh, that I know," Dave said with a genuine, ear to ear smile. "You are hoping I'll give you more answers, trick me into telling things you think I'm keeping from you, and finding out how you can leave this place without me tailing you this time around." Michael blinked, feeling stone frozen in time. Dave wasn't joking. Dave _knew._

"You see Michael, you and I have some things in common, but in general, we'd go different ways. And because we don't know each other, we are trying to anticipate each other's moves. I'm used to people trying to trick me and I'm used to tricking people as well. But I don't want to trick you. I'm being this honest with you because if you decide to leave, not this office but my domains, we both lose."

"Really?" Michael asked sarcastically. Like hell Dave's life was on the stake here.

"Really," Dave simply answered, not giving him a long speech or reason. Just that one word.

"Why do you care if we are caught or not? Why do you care what happens to us out there?" Michael asked in a calm voice, genuinely curious and a little bit startled by Dave's very honest answer. What startled Michael even more was Dave's silence. The man had just dropped his eyes to the floor, thinking. He didn't have an immediate comment for this question. Maybe he just hadn't _anticipated_ this question, as he had seemed to have done with everything Michael had asked him so far.

"I don't know," Dave finally answered, arching his eyebrows, his eyes lost in some point in the air. "I mean, I do care, I just don't know why," he said more to himself than for Michael's ears. "Why do you care about Maria? Why didn't you just take off the first night Liz found out about the truth? Why didn't you knock some sense into Max about telling her anything but the truth? Why did they convince you to accept my offer when you know so well that you don't know a thing about me?"

Michael tried to open his mouth in an attempt to answer him, but the words didn't come. He made another attempt, and this time, the ideas didn't come. They both just stared at each other.

"You are crazy," Michael simply answered after a whole minute had passed. Dave almost laughed at that comment.

"I guess I am," he said shrugging, "but we both have questions, so we both have to give answers," he ended, finally breaking the first wall of ice that Michael had set off. But just the first. Michael had plenty of those right in place.

So, for the next four hours not much was really said between the two of them, who had consciously accepted play in this game of tricky questions and half answers and enigmatic comments. Though Michael had never met someone like Dave, deep inside of him, _very_ deep inside of him, Michael had a sense of familiarity. As if he had done this many times before with many other people. A verbal chess game, one where there was no real winner, just a feeling of getting to know more than what had been given in the first place.

All the same, Michael had the distinct feeling that all along Dave had been playing with him on a superior level. The funny thing was that Dave had truly been playing with him in more ways than Michael could have thought possible. And if Michael could have had even the slightest peek into that man's mind, he would have seen that Dave truly knew the meaning of how to use half truths when you were lying.

---------------------------------------------

Isabel moved her hand to one side, almost in a gesture of greeting. They –Jake, Max and her- were now in the same room where they had been playing car games the day before, except that now the screen held a very different image than the one of the racing cars. Now it was an image of themselves, or more likely, the _heat_ image of themselves. She was looking at her own figure all in shades of reds, oranges and yellows, and she had moved her hand just to see if the hand on the screen would move as well. It did.

"You know," Jake said, as he was staring at the same screen, "it never ceases to amaze me how alike we both are."

"Well, we _are_ humans too," Isabel answered, dropping her hand. It was her, alright…

"Of course you are, but just half. Look at our images, there's no difference. And every cell of your body is as different from mine as day is from night. That's what amazes me."

"You thought we would look different?" Max slowly asked. In fact, Max had gotten that quiet tone that he only used when he was very uncomfortable talking about something.

"I was expecting it, sure. But then again, I was expecting a lot of things," Jake said while changing the picture. Isabel and Max exchanged questioning looks with each other. What did Jake mean with that last comment?

The image did change. It was the three of them again, but instead of warm colors, they were now all in blues, light blues and whites.

"Now, _this_ is different," Jake said, looking at the picture and then turning to them. It was different in the fact that, though Jake was covered in different shades of blues, Max and Isabel's blues were really vivid, and white on the edges.

"What is that? Ultraviolet?" Max asked, looking at his own hand and then back to the screen, almost as if he were expecting to see blue around himself.

Jake smiled. "Though it would be interesting to see how insects see you, nope. This is something we got from the Russians like a decade ago. We've been working on it ever since."

They both looked at Jake, expectant. "So, what is it?" Max asked.

"Energy, synergy, aura, psychic vibrations… called it whatever you want, no one really knows. In the 60's, the Russians had an advanced project on psychic abilities, and developed the ancestor of this camera," Jake said pointing to the screen. "They performed experiments with this woman who had the ability of telekinesis. So they took one picture of her hands, then she did her thing, and when they took the picture again, her hands would look a little like you do right now. She changed the energy –or whatever it is- around her hands."

"But we are not changing anything right now," Isabel said, frowning.

"Well, a decade of working did pay off. You see, the reason why the Russians' camera didn't get a Nobel Prize or anything was because you could take a picture of an apple, and it would look exactly like the picture of anyone's hands. And everybody knows that an apple can't have mental abilities… No psychic energy or anything… Besides, no one wanted to believe in such things openly. But," Jake said looking closer at the screen, "it was taking pictures of _something_. We refined the lens, to put it in words, but we still don't know what exactly we are photographing."

"We?" Max asked, looking at the ceiling, almost as if expecting to find a group of people looking at them from there.

"Some other people who would be gagging right now if they could see this picture," Jake said laughing. "And to answer your question," he said looking at Isabel, "you are not changing anything, but you have all the potential to do it."

"So this camera takes pictures of how capable one person is of having psychic abilities?" Max said, looking back at his own image.

"Why not?" Jake said, shrugging, "we have taken pictures from nails to horses, from idiots to geniuses, and I have never seen one picture with such vivid colors as yours." Jake pressed another button from his remote control and the screen went blank.

"I was planning on showing this yesterday, but you know how yesterday went. I don't like excluding Michael on this one though, so we'll have the same explanation tomorrow morning, okay?"

Michael. Isabel felt a shiver running through all her spine. Though she would have more faith in Michael's acts than Max on any given day, that didn't mean she was 100 sure everything was okay up there in Dave's office. She had expected _something_ to happen for the past three hours. Either it being Jake's G.E.S. beeping, a cell phone ringing, or an entire alarm system going off through all the corridors of this place. But so far, nothing.

Well, didn't they say that "no news was good news"? Isabel sighed, for an instant making eye contact with Max. Her brother gave her the slightest smile in a reassuring way, clearly thinking the same as she had at the mention of Michael's name.

"So, you are recording all the time?" Max addressed the… was it doctor? Almost two entire sessions had gone by and they still had no clue what kind of doctor Jake was.

"In these rooms every time there's movement. The cameras activate themselves. No point in losing battery or energy. It's a good thing there aren't insects or it would be pretty boring to see the record of a fly passing through on the screen," Jake joked, and though they didn't exactly laugh, they did manage to smile. It wasn't that Jake was trying to be funny, but just that this was the way he talked.

All the same, Isabel had to give credit to these people on knowing how to keep this place _neat._ Nothing was out of place. Not in the corridors, not in Jake's office, not in this room. Jake kept telling them about the _rooms_, but so far, this was the only they had seen. A white glass door separated it from whatever was on the other side. Yet, she knew that Jake was waiting for Michael to show them. She just hoped that the showing would happen tomorrow, because her imagination wasn't exactly friendly with her thought about what was _there._

For a second, an image of six men in lab coats watching them through the white glass passed through her mind, a reminiscence of Max's act of watching the ceiling. She shook the thought off. It was doing nothing good for her. And God, she wanted everything to work out.

"Are you hungry?" Jake asked, checking the hour on his watch. She did the same. It was 10:49. She wasn't hungry, but she was thirsty. They had talked ever since they had arrived, and that Cherry Coke from 7:00 a.m. had been long ago finished. And, by the way, the only new place they had seen this day had been the bathroom, which was at the very opposite side of the white glass door. There had been nothing remarkable or outstanding about it. Your ordinary –if very large- office bathroom.

"I wouldn't mind another Cherry Coke," Max said, trying to sound normal. Trying even harder to not look uncomfortable. She couldn't really blame him. Talking about their powers was one of the weirdest things to do, no matter what they had agreed upon.

Almost as if Jake could read her thoughts, when they were walking out to get the sodas out of his mini-fridge, he asked out loud, "You know, you don't really have to tell me, but I would love to hear how you got to discover your abilities. What was it like when you were kids?"

Talking about their powers was one of the weirdest things because they barely talked about them. Not with other people, but within themselves. When they were growing, for Max and Isabel it was like, if you didn't say a thing about it, then you could pretend it didn't exist. Michael couldn't control them, and was pissed off at the fact. Besides, there was the risk of being overheard.

So, those early years of discovery had been… well, a sort of excitement mixed with fear. By the time they were teenagers, they hardly talked about anything alien related, in part because they were scared of it, and in part because they didn't really put much use to their powers. Max was always giving her these looks of "you are doing it again", every time she did something in front of him, that he just spoiled the little joy she could find in them. But that had changed with Tess's arrival and their message from home. They were getting stronger, and whether they wanted to admit it or not, that also scared them big time. Michael had gotten the better deal out of it though, because he had finally managed to gain control over his energy, leveling with her and Max. Of course, to get Tess's level they would need years of practice…

"Well, it was…" Max started, glancing at her, crying for help with his look. It wasn't that they couldn't talk about this, it was just… How do you talk about something you had never really talked about because you feared for your life? Start with the beginning? Jake passed them the sodas, expectant.

"It just happened…" Isabel tried to elaborate. "I wanted my dress to be light blue instead of pink, and it would start to change, so I would just stop wishing it before Mom noticed…"

"Or we would want to… I don't know, get a cookie and it would just move towards us," Max reflected, "We were just kids, doing silly stuff."

"But you weren't silly kids, that's for sure. You didn't go showing off… did you?" Jake asked, now opening some chips he had also brought with him from the cupboard, signaling with his hand if they wanted something. Both siblings declined.

Still, a question was pending in the air. They both thought about it for a second. "Everything was new," Isabel said, remembering her first memories. Fuzzy memories. "And we had to learn so much so fast, because all the other kids were doing all the things kids our age were supposed to do…"

"But soon we sort of realized that there were things they weren't doing…" Max said, sort of fidgeting with his own fingers, watching as Jake gave a last look to the cupboard. "I mean, by the time we actually started doing things, we knew the others weren't. We just kept it a secret… Half of the time we even kept it a secret from each other."

Those had been some very scary years, Isabel reflected. Where had Michael been, to begin with? Where was the other kid, the other one that was like them? She had known just as strongly as Max had known that Michael was out there, and that they belonged together. Every kid they had met, they had hoped… It hadn't been till they were almost eight that things had started to happen. By that time they were conscious enough of their surroundings and what people expected. Especially what their parents expected. And changing colors and moving cookies wasn't on the list. So many things weren't on that list…

"So, you pretty much developed your abilities by yourselves? I mean, individually?" Jake asked, raising an eyebrow at Max's latest comment, the three of them still standing.

Max took a deep breath, almost as if preparing for a long speech. "Well, it was more like… I would do something, and try to do it again. If I could do it again, then I would tell Isabel and she would try it… but when we were kids, not much really happened…"

"Your parents never caught you when you were kids?" Jake asked, indicating that they should go to the living room, his eyes bright with enthusiasm. But did Jake know that they had actually been caught by their parents not even a year ago?

"I don't know why they didn't…" Max said, sitting on the larger sofa, Isabel sitting at his right. Jake took the other sofa, at their left. "I mean, it wasn't that we did anything often, but they could have caught us."

"I'm sure Mom had her suspicions. It all started with that video…" and of course, that comment had to be elaborated. Jake was almost done with his chips by the time he had finished asking about the incident, and they had finished telling him everything they could recall.

"It must have been tough on you," Jake said sympathetically. "I mean, not only keeping those things secret, but to adjust and all. Like you said, to live up to the standards of everyone else."

They both nodded. It was around 11:20 a.m. by now, and so far, no explosions had been heard down here. Was Michael still up there? Isabel was feeling uneasiness now. She didn't like one of their own out of her range, to put it in words.

"So, what is it like? To heal?" Jake asked. Both Evans swallowed hard. They had pretty much avoided the subject of unique powers, and had omitted her dreamwalking and Michael's very efficient destructive technique… And Tess' mindwarps, of course… But the main reason for them avoiding the subject was that Max couldn't allow Jake to know what happened to someone he had healed… those _changes _could not be seen in a lab. How were they going to convince the man in front of them that Max shouldn't heal a thing? "You said you didn't know you were healing the pigeon, but you must have felt something…"

Max took his time to think this one through, almost as if he were deciding every single word he was going to use. Probably he had done so every night since they had arrived here… "It's like…" Max started, still thoughtful. Then, shrugging a little, he looked at Jake, "Water, like a flow. I can feel the flow, and when something's is not right, the flow is… disrupted I guess… I remember thinking that when I touched that bird, that it was disrupted…"

Isabel looked at her brother. Max had never really told her how it… _felt…_ to heal, just how tired he got _after_ healing. It wasn't as if she had told him how it felt to dreamwalk either, now that she was thinking about it. When Max had said half of the time they kept their powers to each other, and later on told the other, it was like, "hey, I did this, can you?" but there wasn't any _how_ they had done it. Though half of those times, their little experiments ended up with something blowing… and blowing things did feel like _disrupting_ something…

"And when you touched the bird, or when you heal someone now, you put that flow back in place?"

"It isn't that easy…" Max said with a dark tone. Jake caught the intention, and frowned. "In order to put that flow in place, I have to… well, it feels as if I have to use my own flow to re-direct the other person's. I didn't feel that with the pigeon, but I did when I saved Liz, and every other person I have healed after that. And that feeling… It drains me."

"It exhausts you?" Jake tentatively asked.

"Usually, but last time I tried it, it killed me."

Isabel felt cold. The idea of losing Max –or Michael for that matter- was one that plagued her nightmares. One of her worst fears. And it had happened. She had been shot and had been fighting for her life, so there wasn't much to remember about that, but for the brief minutes between Valenti getting out of that fire telling them Max was dead and the actual shooting… that feeling had killed her inside. If Max had truly been dead… she didn't even want to think about how things would have been for them now.

Jake was silent for a few seconds. "You mean it literally killed you?"

Max nodded. "And it's something I'm not going to do again."

It wasn't 'til 12:30 pm that they finally left the place, Jake still wanting to keep discussing the whole "transferring" thing, even trying to see a way of healing without Max ending dead –something Max refused to do no matter what.

"Do you think he'll find a way to convince you?" Isabel asked as they were waiting for the elevator.

"Not a chance in hell," Max seriously said, "if he finds out about…" The doors opened, showing a deserted inside. Max didn't have to elaborate about what he was afraid Jake might find out. Beginning with Liz, continuing with Kyle, and probably ending with who knew what kind of experiments.

But Isabel was still unsure. Maybe she had asked the wrong question. What if Jake found a way to _obligate_ Max into healing? How long could they keep things hidden from these people?


	14. Making Plans

Hey all! Thanks for coming back to read! I hope Michael's interview was interesting enough ;)**  
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XIV**

**Making Plans**

By 12:34 p.m. Liz was positively going to make something explode, alien powers or no alien powers. She was holding the empty plastic water bottle as if her life was depending on it. Where was Max? And for that matter, where was Michael as well?

She had been scared beyond belief when for what had seemed like an eternity early that morning, Max had shut her out, completely, making her feel a coldness where Max's warmth had always been. What the hell had happened at that early hour, she had no idea, but she hadn't liked it at all. And then, an instant later, Max's connection had returned with a huge feeling of "I'm sorry" that had left her feeling confused. Max is okay, she had kept telling herself all morning long, almost embracing herself for another shock of coldness if whatever had happened to Max happened again. Oh, her husband had a big explanation to give, Liz knew, but she would wait for that 'til they were alone. After all, discussing their connection in public wasn't exactly a merry thought.

She had kept feeling Max's discomfort all morning long, which she could understand to some degree. But for an hour now, she had been experiencing something different from him. Something she had never felt before. It wasn't as if Max was angry, because it wasn't such a conventional feeling, but it was like a mix of fear with intensity and something else… something along the lines of determination. Oh, and of Max's stubbornness she had more than just a few memories. Usually, when they were being stubborn with each other for whatever reason, she would not really notice the difference between how she felt being stubborn from how Max was letting her feel his stubbornness through their connection.

But today was different. This feeling wasn't directed at her. And the feeling was different all the same. Something had bothered Max big time, but had also made him feel afraid. What had they done at the Lab today? Because a car game would not do that to her husband's feelings.

"You know, Liz, the bottle isn't responsible…" Kyle said while returning to their table at the Cafeteria. He was already carrying his lunch, a couple of tuna sandwiches and an orange juice.

Liz didn't reply, too focused on trying to decipher the latest mystery message through the connection she shared with her soul mate.

"Okay, not my best material, but you could at least roll your eyes at me…" Kyle said, sitting next to her. Maria was still serving herself. Liz wasn't hungry. In fact, if anything but water actually managed to get through her throat, it would not pass the tight knot that was now her stomach. This apprehension was just not helping her appetite.

"Sorry," she said, returning her attention to the rest of the world.

"You could send a message or call to the Lab, you know?" Kyle said, putting a comforting hand over her shoulder. It was at times like this that Liz remembered why she had gone out with Kyle for an entire summer back when Kyle wasn't even half the nice guy he was now. He might think he sucked at the "meaningful stuff", but Kyle just knew the right moment to make a gesture like this, like putting a hand on your shoulder, which instantly made you feel better.

"I know, but it's just half an hour past midday, so I can't…" Liz said with doubt, frowning a little, her eyes not really focused on anything. Why was she so convinced that she shouldn't call Max? It wasn't as if they weren't married, for crying out loud! A wife was allowed to call her husband to check on things, right? Max had told her that his Mom called his Dad once a day. Since her parents had worked together, she hadn't been able to see that kind of behavior though…

All the same, Ray had told her about calling Max from the first moment they had met him at the Gym, and he had kept saying it throughout the morning. He had also told Maria the same thing as well, since this time, Maria wasn't all that confident on Dave keeping his side of the deal if for some reason Michael managed to exasperate him…

Her best friend wasn't much better than herself at trying to not look nervous. Well, make that at the edge of a nervous breakdown. Maria had kept glancing at the watch just as badly as Liz had done the day before. Except that Kyle was now in the picture and he had really tried to make light of the situation as often as he could. Liz had the impression that Kyle wasn't far from joining the anxiety club, though, and this was his way of releasing his stress. Liz envied him. She just couldn't get into sarcastic mode when she was worried about Max.

Why couldn't Max just be here waiting for her? And the reason she wasn't calling, or paging, or sending a message or whatever to him was because they had agreed that they had to be strong, and look strong as well. That meant not panicking because the other wasn't at the Cafeteria at 12 sharp. That also meant that she was relying on their connection to be sure –and to reassure Kyle and Maria- that everything was okay. And when Max had shut her out at 7:30 a.m. …

Why where they being kept apart, anyway? Liz wondered for the millionth time that day. Why couldn't they just go all together and see whatever the hell was in the Lab? They really didn't need to exercise that much… Liz made a mental note to ask exactly that tomorrow, when her turn to meet Dave at his office came.

And why was Maria taking so long to return to the table too? One glance told her the reason: Michael was –finally- coming into the large room, and Maria had forgotten the world around her, going to him in an amazingly controlled walk. Liz lost a little bit of her tension. Now, if only Max could come right away…

She felt him before she actually saw him. A very distinctive sensation. Max's presence getting nearer was something she just couldn't miss. Liz's eyes lighted up in a second. Not only because Max was finally coming, but because it was the first time she could tell he was coming. Max had told her that he always knew when she was nearby, or if she was not so close to him, but for Liz, there hadn't been any real difference. Untill now. And for a brief moment, she was thrilled.

The next moment, however, just as she turned to look at Max entering the Cafeteria, their eyes meeting, she could also feel Max's mixed feelings getting stronger, especially his stubbornness. Whatever had happened at the Lab, Max was setting in stone whatever was passing through his mind right now. Liz gave him a small smile while getting out of the chair and going to meet him some 15 feet away, and Max returned it with one of his own. Well, it couldn't be that bad if he was still smiling at her, right?

Right?

They met right beside where Maria was standing with Michael, both already moving towards their table. If it was hard to put a name to Max's feelings, it was just practically impossible to put a name to Michael's face. He was serious, okay, but Liz couldn't know if he was mad, angry, ready to blow up the whole Cafeteria, or what. Isabel joined them as they started to walk.

"He's in one piece," Max's sister said barely above a whisper.

"Let's hope everything and everyone else is as well," Max answered back, though he _was_ talking in whispers. Certainly, putting in doubt their faith in Michael's behavior wasn't something either one of them wanted Michael to overhear.

Liz had a million questions to ask, but decided to wait just a little bit longer for everyone to hear today's news.

"It wasn't that bad, then?" Kyle was saying as the last three of the group gathered around the table. He was asking Michael, who simply sat by Maria's side, opposite to where Liz, Max and Isabel were now sitting. Kyle was at one end. All eyes expectant on him, Liz couldn't remember a time where they were all waiting so eagerly for Michael's words.

"It could have been worse," Michael answered shrugging, and then, as if something clicked in his head, he turned to look at Liz. "We are going to that base thing this afternoon, right? The Network Geeks' place?

Liz narrowed her eyes, "Yeah…" what was Michael implying here? All her response was a small smile on Michael's lips. Almost a malicious smile, a testimony that something was up in her almost brother-in-law's mind.

"You hungry?" Max asked her, an uncertain undertone in his voice, something that had nothing to do with his question and everything to do with Michael's actions.

"I am now," Liz said, feeling the knot in her stomach loosen up just a little bit. But she wasn't prepared at all when Michael answered Max's questioning look about if he was going to get his own lunch.

"I've already eaten."

What? When? Where! With Dave? For the second time in less than five minutes, the whole group was staring at Michael again. What exactly had happened at Dave's office? Especially if it had involved an actual meal.

"I got out of there early, I came here early," Michael said in a it's-not-a-big-deal tone. Well, getting out "early" did sound like something Michael would do. But how much early, for that matter? Granted, Kyle, Maria and Liz had only been around the Cafeteria for not more than twenty minutes, but still Liz felt suspicious about it. And for that matter, where had Michael been if not at Dave's office or the Cafeteria?

Max nodded at her side, not making any more questions, and placing a hand over her shoulder –one that felt infinitely more reassuring than Kyle's gesture earlier, and Liz felt a little bit guilty for comparing both touches, when she absolutely knew there was no comparing to do- the three of them, Isabel included, went to get their lunch.

Max sighed with relief as they were finishing serving, and barely murmured "he's alright", almost as if he couldn't believe it. Liz smiled at him. "I told you he knew how to do this." Max smiled at her, though it didn't quite reach his eyes. "He's in one piece, okay, but I'm not sure if I want to hear what was said… or how early he actually got away…"

"Or where he was if not with Dave or here?" Liz asked him, arching her eyebrows. Max frowned, clearly not having thought about it. Taking a Cherry Coke each, they both went back to where their friends were.

The only married couple of the group was the last to join on the table. Michael had picked one of Maria's French fries and was dipping it into a pool of Tabasco sauce. Isabel was pouring the red condiment as if trying to drown her own food too. No matter how many times she had seen them eating everything –and she meant _everything_- with Tabasco, she still couldn't help herself mentally saying 'yuck'. Sure, she didn't mind a little spiciness in her daily diet, _but_…

Max reached for the Tabasco bottle as soon as his sister finished with it. Liz turned her eyes to Michael.

"So, how did it go?" Now that they were all together, their collective anxiety was not as high as when they were in groups scattered all around the complex, but still, everyone slowed down whatever they were doing so they could pay attention to Michael's words.

"I found out some interesting things…" Michael said picking another French fry. "He has the translation of the alien book, that's for sure. He said something about us being the ultimate proof that memories can be cloned."

"He said that?" Max asked in a low tone, his food untouched. Liz bit her lip.

"But you guys barely remember a thing," Kyle said, picking the Tabasco sauce. At least he just intended to spice his food, not to make a pond for it.

Michael shrugged, "Apparently he doesn't know that. I don't know, he didn't say anything else but that." Michael stopped picking fries, and got a more serious way. "Anyway, he admitted he had played every trick he could think of to convince us to stay here," Michael said, leaning over the table, eyes intense. "So you were right with your flash, Max. He was somehow desperate to get us here."

"But he didn't tell you why," Max said, the same intensity in his eyes.

"No, he always got around that question. The most I got was that he would _lose_ if we decide to go."

"He said he would lose? Lose what?" Isabel asked, her food also forgotten.

"He said we both would lose, but didn't say what exactly. I mean, he was implying our lives would be pretty much over," Michael sarcastically said, "but he didn't say what _he_ would lose. And it didn't strike me as if the only thing he would miss is the opportunity to have us as his guinea pigs. There's something else happening in here."

"Do you think it could be something dangerous?" Maria asked, concern in her voice, mirroring Liz's own worries. "That whatever he wants will put you in danger?"

Michael's eyes left Maria's and met with Max's. Liz turned to look at her husband as well. Max lowered his gaze and sighed. "We don't know."

"And we should," Michael said, completely certain of his words. That kind of certainty he always got before he went on doing something… mainly something impulsive.

"Yeah, we should," Liz said, jumping in the conversation. "That's why we are going to study different things, so we can get into different sections of this place, right?"

"We need to do more than just that," Michael said.

"What are you proposing?" Kyle asked, frowning. "Join the Salsa lessons on Friday night?"

"That would be a start," Michael said, clearly not really paying attention to what Kyle had suggested, his own mind racing to explain what he was thinking. All the same, Maria arched her eyebrows, making Michael stop for a second. "I mean, joining with other people so we can get to know what they know. It doesn't matter what kind of group that is," he said, shrugging. "Anyway, they have this voluntary thing, some sort of community service. That might give us access to other areas. Though I'm not sure what it is all about."

"How did you find out about this community service stuff?" Maria asked, frowning. Clearly, Michael was full of surprises today.

"I went to the kitchen and overheard it," Michael said, as if it were such an obvious thing.

"What were you doing in the kitchen?" Maria asked again, her frown even deeper now.

"There was no Tabasco sauce, okay? It doesn't matter, the point is, we have to get as much information from Dave as we can. That might hold the key to what the hell he wants from us. Because I don't think he would leave us alone if we decide to go right this moment, and I sure as hell want to know why."

"What else did he tell you?" Max asked. He was thoughtful, as if measuring Michael's words and plans. That fear that they had made the wrong choice was getting stronger than usual. Liz placed a hand over his leg under the table and was instantly rewarded by Max's warm feelings through their connection. Some sort of "thank you", she guessed. He glanced at her with a small smile and then turned again to look at Michael.

It impressed Liz that Michael had been able to keep a four-hour long conversation by going around in circles. After all, everyone knew Michael wasn't the talkative type. He told them about key points of his conversation, of course, but by the sound of it, they had both talked a lot without really saying much. Liz sighed to herself. How was it going to be with her? How should she approach this… challenge?

"Dad's secretary?" Isabel asked with disbelief.

"I knew that tramp from Freshman year meant trouble," Maria said just a second later.

"How many people do you think he sent?" Kyle asked, a lonely tuna sandwich forgotten on his plate.

"Enough to get to know us," Michael said, a little bit annoyed. "But here's the thing: Why not tail us at all times? Us, not other people. He said it was too much of a risk that others found out about what he was after. Which means there are people that could be a problem for him, a _real_ problem," Michael emphasized, a hint of triumph in his eyes.

"But other people finding about us would mean bigger problems for us as well," Isabel said, barely getting over the shock that people she had barely noticed could have been potentially spying on her at all times. It was a feeling Liz could relate to. How many customers at the Crashdown had been sent by Dave? Because, one thing was to suspect it, and another to know for sure it had happened.

"I don't mean us," Michael said in a lower tone, "but just like Ray said on Saturday, Dave has his projects. I bet he doesn't want other people finding about those either."

"So we are back to what we decided on Sunday," Kyle said, reaching for his juice, "we are looking for secrets concealed in this place."

"Yes," Michael said looking at Kyle, "but we are also looking for Dave's specific secrets. He has a life, and someone has to know about that life. That's what he did with us. And those Net Nerds are going to help us figuring that out."

"Because they are also after him," Liz said, finally getting why Michael had been so… _glad_ they were going to the Network Keepers' Base that afternoon.

"But isn't it just like a game for them?" Maria said, and turning to look at Kyle, continued, "I mean, didn't Dave tell you that it was a cat-mouse game between them?"

Kyle stopped drinking. "I bet Dave thinks of it as a game, but you didn't see how excited Jeremy looked when I told him I had met with the mysterious Dave. It sure as hell isn't a game for them."

"So, what are you suggesting," Isabel asked Michael, "that we go up front with the Network people and tell them that Dave's here?"

"No," Michael said firmly, "that's not the way to go around this thing. We have to do this bit by bit, and keep things to ourselves."

Max nodded in approval. "Dave can't know we are on to him this bad. And for that matter, not anyone else in here. They can mislead us if we are not careful."

Great. Now it wasn't only fearing Jake, Ray and Dave, but the other 500 people around here. Liz looked down at her dessert and knew it wouldn't make it past the knot in her stomach. Well, it wasn't as if she were planning on trusting anyone else outside her group, but it wasn't a nice thought to look at everyone as enemies, especially in a confined space like this one. Gosh, she needed air. And for the first time, Liz truly missed the sky as well.

--------------------------------------------------

"I need a drink."

"Oh, come on Jake. It's not even 2:00 p.m." Dave said standing to meet his friend, leaving the puzzle piece he had been holding just a second before at one corner of the table.

"What were you thinking, Dave?" Jake asked before Dave reached him. There was a hint of reproach in his voice, but also tiredness. "I mean, what were you thinking when you decided to bring them here?"

Dave leaned against the table, his back to the windows and the puzzle, resting his weight on his hands. "I was trying to protect them. I'm still trying to do so too."

"Protect them from what?" Could Dave just tell him once and for all what this whole thing was about?

"From the world, of course," Dave said shrugging, and then, as if thinking it, he silently repeated to himself, "from the world…" A beat, then, "Anyway, if you want a drink at this hour, I take it didn't go all that well today?" For a moment, Dave had looked infinitely older, almost as if he were carrying on his shoulders the world he had spoken of an instant before. But now he had returned to his usual self, looking younger than he really was.

"Oh, it went okay, but they are not happy here," Jake said without hiding his thoughts. Dave respected truth, so he was going to get it now. "They are too scared. It doesn't matter how I present them the project, their hearts are not in it."

"You'll find a way. You always do." Dave said with a smile, crossing his arms in front of his chest.

"Yeah, well, I hope your faith in me will someday catch on them. I went as far as offering them to learn ways of escaping. I have to talk to Ray about that, by the way."

"Escaping? What do you mean _escaping_?" Dave said frowning, dropping his hands to his sides.

"Escaping ambushes, the FBI's traps, alien hunters' techniques, and people like you of course," Jake made a small sarcastic smile with his last comment. "Things that they might think are useful."

Dave didn't seem to like the idea for two seconds, and then, arching his eyebrows, he just shrugged. "Okay, as long as they are comfortable with it. Just tell Ray to go slow on that training," Dave turned to the table again, picking up the piece he had left on the corner, trying to figure out where it would fit. "I certainly don't want them 'escaping' two months from now."

"Well, they shouldn't need to, right? I mean, they are free to go whenever they want." Jake said, taunting Dave. Moving to the desk, the older man started to flip the closest tiny pieces.

"Yeah," Dave half grunted, half said with an annoyed tone. "That was the only thing I could think of that would convince them to actually stay."

"Really? So what would you do if they decide to leave?" Jake asked, amused. Dave didn't hesitate a second to respond.

"Well, the deal was pretty clear on that one: I can't follow them, I'll just disappear. I won't like it, and _they_ won't like it out there either. But that's beside the point," Dave rushed in, clearly not liking where this conversation was going. "If you are doing your job right, they are not going to go anywhere." Their eyes met. Was Dave joking or not?

"My job? I didn't read anywhere that my job was to keep them here. In fact, you didn't even mention they were here against their will." This time, Jake's words came a little bit harsher than he had intended. All the same, he was tired and wanting a drink at 1:43 p.m. because he was having the hardest time trying to figure a way to bond with these kids.

"Oh, come on Jake, don't be melodramatic. They are here willingly as you pointed out just a minute ago. They can leave whenever they want." Dave said, trying to sound comical, but that had come out sounding more like an excuse. They hadn't been best friends for 32 years without getting to know the other that well.

"The only reason why they are going to the lab is so you won't kick them out. In my book, that is not 'willingly' Dave." And that had come out sounding like a reprimand.

"Okay, okay, so we differ on semantics." Dave said rolling his eyes. Then, getting into a serious note, Dave said looking him straight in the eye: "But Jake, please, do everything in your power to keep them here." A pause, then, "Did they warm up to your idea of learning escapes?" The smile had returned, the serious tone replaced by a good natured one. That was Dave's unspoken way of making peace, one Jake never refused. This "semantics" discussion could wait… for now.

"They accepted it, not exactly with cheers and applauses, but at least something flickered in their fearful eyes." Jake stopped flipping pieces. "Still, we didn't exactly end on good terms today."

"What do you mean? What happened?" Dave asked with concern, his muscles visibly tense, his puzzle forgotten. His best friend was clearly worried that something could go astray.

"You know about Max's healing ability, of course, but… something very strange happened less than a year ago." So Jake proceeded to tell him almost word for word what Max had told him about Clayton Wheeler, and Meta Chem. _So they were the owners of the dress,_ had been Dave's only interruption to the whole account of events.

"Anyway, the bottom line is, he doesn't want to use his healing ability ever again," Jake said, still standing in front of Dave's desk, who had taken a seat sometime through the tale in his usual chair.

"He would if he had to." Dave said, thoughtfully. He hadn't reached for a single piece ever since Jake had started. "He healed Michael when they were getting out of the FBI trap. There was a blood trail that vanished in the woods. He will have to show you at some point how he does it."

"What are you suggesting? That I shoot Michael so I can see him using that ability?" Jake joked.

"Of course not," Dave said with humor too, "but at least we know his fear isn't all that bad. It can be overcome."

Jake sighed. "It is understandable that he doesn't want to do it again. He just doesn't seem to realize that what he did with Clayton and what he does when he heals are just different things."

"You didn't tell him that?"

"Sure I did. He said he didn't care. It felt the same way for him, so he sees no real difference. But he has to practice on some level if he expects to understand it and get better at it…"

"Well, my friend, that's why you are considered a genius, you figured this one out, because you are right: He _has_ to practice. Anyway, are you hungry? Michael didn't accept a thing all morning long, so I've been waiting for you to put my teeth to good use."

Jake laughed, and both men went to see what was in Dave's fridge. Still, something was bothering Jake. There was something odd about the way Dave was so adamant about the fact that they had to work with their mental abilities. He kept saying that every time they talked. And that interest was something beyond the project itself, and had little or nothing to do about getting to know what the human brain was capable of. But what could it be?

"There was something very intriguing about today's interview," Dave said, passing Jake an unwrapped sandwich. "Michael kept staring at my favorite code all morning long."

Jake started to pull layer after layer of white, impermeable paper. "Staring?" he absently asked.

"Well, not really _staring_ in the whole sense of the word," Dave said, looking at the black numbers opposite to where they were now. "Every time he wanted to change subjects or I kept silent for a little time, his eyes turned to it."

"He might have thought it odd, that's all." Jake said receiving a 7up can.

"No," Dave said, emphasizing his word by shaking his head. "He wouldn't have turned to look at it 27 times in two hours if he had thought it was odd. He knew there was some hidden meaning to it, he just didn't know how to decipher it. I know the look Jake; I have seen it a million times on my own face."

Jake smiled, finally getting to see the brown color of the baguette bread. "Not everyone is like you, Dave."

Dave shrugged, a little bit annoyed. "Make sure he does his math. I have a sense that he's a natural code breaker."

"A sense?" Jake said, arching one eyebrow. "Now you are psychic too?" Dave's annoyed look grew deeper. "Okay, okay. But you know that to ask Michael to do math is quite a challenge. Especially the kind of math he would need to learn to be a real code breaker, not just one that senses there's a code but that's it. That might take some time, and that is assuming he actually wants to do it."

Oh, of all the things Jake couldn't just imagine… What was up with Dave trying to get these kids into following a career path anyway? Was it just so they would have something else to pass time down here? Was Dave planning to place them somewhere according to their area of expertise? No, that couldn't be. Dave had hundreds of people at his disposal already trained in whatever he needed. Why bother with making these kids study then? Especially something like breaking mathematical codes? Dave might think it was the easiest thing in the world, but for common mortals, math was usually the most hated class.

Both men settled into a comfortable silence while eating. Jake returned to his inner puzzle. A sense of normalcy? Jake thought. If they were common mortals, now they would be finishing their first year in college –second for Isabel. Was that why Dave was trying to make them interested in something? So they would feel like they were doing normal stuff? But then again, why codes? Why not encourage Michael into developing his artistic side? This whole thing was just a question mark after a question mark. Ever since Dave had told him, Jake had suspected something off, but back then it had been just a feeling. He still remembered when Dave had called him seven months ago:

"_You know, I have the perfect project for you," Dave had said in a calmed voice over the phone._

"_You do?" Dave had a million projects in his head, so Jake barely kept tabs of those, much less knew any in any kind of depth. But what he _did_ know about Dave's projects was that Dave always considered them _big._ And usually, they were. "Is it something that will change History or just my personal life?" Jake had joked._

"_Maybe both," Dave had said, quietly, almost as if he didn't want anyone overhearing him on the other side of the line. "What if I tell you that that camera you've been working on on weekends has a lot of potential with this project?"_

"_Dave my friend, you've finally become a religious man and now you want to know about your aura's color?" Jake had joked again, holding the cell phone between his jaw and his left shoulder, trying to open a Coke. Last time they had talked about that project, Jake had told him that some of his colleagues were trying to figure out a way of proving that what they were seeing was the human soul. _

"_No," Dave had laughed, "I was thinking more along the lines the Russians did when they first developed it."_

"_Psychic Abilities? Really? I thought you weren't interested in that kind of thing."_

"_Well, I am now. Would you be interested in working with… how do you say it? 'Gifted' kids?"_

_Jake had stopped right there. Dave wasn't joking. Placing the now open Coke over the table, Jake had straightened himself up and had grabbed the cell phone with his right hand. "How gifted?"_

"_Very."_

Two weeks later Dave had told him about the true nature of his very gifted, if not any longer _kids_. It had been mind blowing. Not because they were aliens, but because they were just half aliens. Just like Dave's true love was knowledge in general, Jake's true love was Biology, especially Neurobiology. That was why he was interested in psychic abilities to begin with. And these kids –he couldn't really call them anything else after that call- were hybrids with far more advanced abilities than anything or anyone he had even heard of. They were practically the most advanced human beings on the planet. They were just the perfect study cases.

But Dave had made it sound as if they wanted to experiment with their abilities. Wanted to know them. So Jake knew they were on the run and that Dave was looking for a way of getting them into a safe place, but Jake had really thought they were also going to be comfortable with the idea. Well, he was wrong, and now he had to find a way of righting this whole situation. This whole mess as it was turning out to be.

Gosh, when he had been talking with Max and Isabel this morning –and he hadn't liked the idea of leaving Michael out of that conversation but he had to do something while the two siblings were with him- he had just wanted to ask a million personal questions. The little details that made research so fulfilling. But that required a kind of confidence that only developed with time.

When Max had told him they could connect with people, he had been really close to just saying: "Do it. Connect with me and let me see it." God, he would love to be a test science subject, to get to experience first hand a psychic connection. But neither Max or Isabel would have felt comfortable with the idea, so Jake hadn't wanted to push it… yet.

When they had started talking about Liz's connection, he had had to bite his tongue on suggesting "Would you ask her if she wants to explore it?" Oh, he could just picture in his head Max's round eyes filling with terror, his heartbeat going three times faster. No. It would take for Liz to be at death's door for Jake to have a medical look at her and Max being okay with it. And it was such a frustrating thing, because he knew that under other circumstances, Liz would probably be interested in learning the science behind all of it. If she could only convince her husband, sister-in-law, and their mutual best friend…

By now, Jake had already planned tomorrow's strategy about getting to make some bonding with them. Especially since the three of them were going to be there. He wasn't expecting it to be easy, but he had to keep trying on different approaches to earn their trust. Because whatever the hell Dave wanted or expected, the truth was as simple as this: Either the whole thing worked or it didn't.

And so far, building trust with the most advanced humans on this planet just plain sucked.

--------------------------------------------------

Maria kept pressing number after number on her brand new cell phone, courtesy of the Network guys. It was now 3:20 p.m. and the six of them where in the not small, but not quite large "lobby" of the Network Keeper's Base. There was a desk shaped like a C filled with papers of all colors, and about six or seven computers spread along it, all of which had neon colored post-it's with unreadable messages all around the monitors. Which was the only thing she could see of those computers: Flat plasma monitors.

A guy had met with them at that desk.

"_We are here because—", Max had started, but the guy had interrupted him._

"_You are the new guests!" the blond and curly haired guy had said with a huge smile. "We were expecting you. So, anything we can serve you?"_

_The six of them had stared at each other. They were here because they had been _sent_ here, not because they needed anything, really…_

"_We could use some cell phones," Isabel had said, showing her very impressive smile, one that earned every guys' favors. Predictably, the guy had disappeared, returning three minutes later with six boxes, all containing the latest in cell phone technology. Of course, this meant smaller buttons, smaller monitors, smaller everything, and a headache trying to decipher the whole thing._

She was by now half through saving all the others' cell phone numbers into her own, something that required patience and damned good hand-manipulation to pulse all the right buttons.

"There should be an easier way to do this…" Maria murmured as Isabel was putting her cell phone into her jeans' front pocket. Apparently, the Ice Princess had better coordination when it came to using small buttons and interminable menus on tiny monitors.

"Well, you can access them from your personal G.E.S. or your windows at home," a guy said behind her. Maria turned around in an instant. It was the same red-haired guy that had been attending at The Shop the day before. Maria felt her eyes going round, almost as if saying "you?", her eyebrows going up as well. Thinking that it was a little bit rude, she turned her surprise into a smile.

"Oh. Hi. Windows? What windows?"

"That's how we call the plasma monitors at your apartment. Since there are no real windows down here, well," the still stranger said shrugging, "I guess we think of those as our only windows to the world."

"Yeah? Can I call France from this?" Maria said, lifting her brand new cell phone. She already knew the answer before the slightly older guy in front of her said while laughing, "Of course not! But wouldn't that be great?"

"What would be great?" Michael said, coming from behind Maria, a slight frown on his face. Michael had been talking to Kyle about some points that apparently Dave had asked him, trying to corroborate that they both had said the same things, so Maria had been pretty much absorbed in getting a cell phone without worrying about her Space Boy. The look in the eyes of the red haired guy changed in an almost imperceptible way, but Maria knew the look: the one that said "you are not exactly single, then?"

"He was telling me that I don't have to access the numbers from here, but that I can write them from the computers at the apartment," then, turning to look at the guy, she asked him, "sorry, what's your name?"

"Allan," he said, extending a hand to Michael, obviously waiting for an introduction on their part.

"Nice to meet you Allan, I'm Maria," the blond girl said as her turn of taking Allan's hand came, "and this is Michael. And we were wondering—"

"Ha!" Maria was interrupted by that sole word from someone on the other side of the room. Exactly where Max and Liz were now looking at a short brunette with short hair, white skin and narrow eyes. A Chinese girl. "You owe me 10 credits, Allan. Here's my Liz and Max!"

The six teens stood as still as statues, looking randomly at either the short girl or the red haired guy. What was all this about? Michael was the first to snap, though it had only been seconds from the moment Maria had been interrupted.

"What the hell are you talking about?" Maria felt a strong arm around her waist, a protective gesture from Michael.

"Sorry," Allan apologized to them. "It's just a little bet we are having…"

"A bet?" Liz asked, looking at Max, and then at the Chinese girl.

"Well," the short haired girl said blushing a little bit, "we are used to have newcomers every two or three weeks, but by now we are so used to certain names, that we are just expecting them."

"Expecting them?" Kyle and Maria said at the same time, both turning to look at each other.

"Yeah," Allan said, going behind the desk that the first blond guy had apparently abandoned. "It started around seven months ago. Groups of six people started coming. By the forth month, there were always common names like Michael," the Network Keeper said smiling at Michael, "or John, or Ben, that were always repeating themselves. So out of the twenty five most used names, we pick two randomly and wait for the next group to arrive. May Ling chose Max and Liz, while I chose John and Ann. So she wins," Allan said while typing something at one of the monitors by pressing the plasma buttons.

But Maria hardly noticed. _That_ was really impressive. She could still remember Michael saying that a group of six would always be remembered, and apparently, Dave had thought exactly the same thing, because he had made sure that meeting groups of six was such a common thing down here, that no one would care. He had gone as far as making their names pretty common too. If leaks happened, well, it was going to be harder to pick their exact group among dozens who had similar names.

Maria had a renewed sense of wonder at the lengths Dave had gone and was still going to keep them here, and make sure no one thought it strange. It also made her feel trapped, and cold, and apprehensive, and to her surprise, those feelings weren't all from her alone. Michael was letting her feel him as well. His grip had stayed firmly in place too.

"So, which are your areas of expertise?" May Ling asked, getting behind the desk as well, her narrow eyes fixed on Liz.

"We are not exactly experts…" Liz started to say, "We sort of have to still decide that…"

"Oh, you are _that_ kind of guests; the ones that come for… how did the first group called it? You are here for the 'internship'?" the Network Keeper said smiling, though Maria had almost laughed at the word _guests_. "You are not that common, sure, but I would guess by your white cards that some of you _are_ experts?"

Were they? The six of them stared at each other, again, but this time, no one said anything.

"So, we are also that secretive, hm?" May Ling said, a mischievous smile on her face, the kind that was meant to say _and I'll find all those secrets too_. "Anyway, if you are here for an internship, I presume you want the grand tour? See what will interest you?"

They all nodded, not quite enthusiastically, but they managed. What could there be remotely interesting in a place full of computer geeks? To her surprise, Michael was actually moving her forward, in an uncharacteristically display of interest on his part. It shouldn't have surprised her, really, not after this morning.

Michael hadn't exactly let her feel him as Liz felt Max, but Michael had had the courtesy of letting her know that he was okay. That was it. And of course, she should be thankful he had done as much as that… But the other thing that had slipped through that connection was a mixed feeling of fear and determination. One that was pretty much the same one that Liz had felt from Max, if Maria had been able to tell that.

The difference was that Maria did know exactly what Michael was setting his mind to: Dave. She had known it from the moment he had started to tell them about his meting with the oh so powerful Dave, how he had known about people from his childhood, and that annoying way of getting around the big question: What the hell did he want from the wonder trio?

She guessed Michael had taken as personally as it could get the fact that Dave had known so many things about him. Michael hated to be predictable, and half of the time the only thing predictable about him was that he was going to be _un_predictable. He hated being known so well, especially by strangers, and he wanted his enemy to know exactly how that felt. This was going to be a long stay, no matter how short the time they actually remained in that place, Maria decided right that moment.

They entered the room that was beyond the lobby space, May Ling at the front and Allan at the rear. The room was pretty large, twice the lobby size, lined with black beeping computers that looked like lockers –servers, she would recall the name later from scenes in movies- and a wide screen was at the end of the room divided into little images of cameras all looking into the outside world. It was all still covered in snow, Maria saw. The other thing she noticed was that the room was really cold too.

"You told Jeremy that you have met Dave?" Allan said, a little bit too rushed, almost as if unsure of asking that, but not being able to restrain himself.

"Please…" May Ling said, rolling her eyes at him. "Every group tells Jeremy that, and no offense," she said turning to look at them, "but no one gets to meet _the_ Dave just for an internship. That just isn't possible."

Well… you would be surprised at what is and what _isn't _impossible around us… Maria thought, catching a small smile on Liz's lips.

Allan blushed, though it was hard to tell because the room was also dark. "This is the control room," Allan said, trying to change subjects now that May Ling had mocked him. "This screen shows the main outside areas. An alarm goes on if anything taller than 3 feet passes in front. Which means that even a 3 feet tall green alien would be caught on the security system," Allan joked. They laughed nervously. Sure, Maria thought, but what tells you that those are the only kind of aliens out there?

"So," Michael asked, in a seemingly casual tone, "What's up with you and this Dave guy? Why the fuss?" True. They knew there was this mystery around the guy, but hadn't William told them that he didn't know about that secret identity thing till recently? So, it wasn't some global knowledge that Dave was this elusive guy… at least not for everyone who worked for him. As far as they knew, only the Network Keepers were chasing him.

Allan and May Ling looked at each other, frowning. Almost as if they couldn't understand the question.

"You don't know who Dave is? I mean, what he does?" May Ling asked, half surprised, half suspicious.

"Big boss, big company, big secrets, many interests…" Kyle said, summarizing in one phrase pretty much everything they knew. Oh, and add to that kidnapper of half aliens and Co., please.

"And you don't know why he's the big boss, with the big company, with the big secrets and how he keeps all his interests under the microscope?" Allan said, leaning over the only desk from which the controls to the screens were. Allan turned to look at May Ling, his eyes just as suspicious as hers.

"We only got an offer from him, that's all," Isabel said, frowning, making it sound as it wasn't a big deal if they didn't want to tell them all those facts. Of course, the six of them were pretty much dying to get to know a little bit more.

After a moment of deliberation, May Ling finally gave in. "We don't know that much about Dave," she said, "He's the best at breaking computer codes. Breaking security systems, bank accounts, governments classified information. That kind of thing. He gathers information from just about every place on the planet that has a computer on it. He's also the best at keeping his own systems untouchable. No one has ever been able to reach him, though he certainly has reached us…"

"He's like our real life Morpheus, you know, from The Matrix?" Allan said excitedly. Max glanced at Michael almost with an annoyed look, rolling his eyes at him. Michael only smiled. Had Maria missed some conversation between those two?

"The reason we are here," said May Ling, moving her head slowly from side to side as if saying _don't pay attention to him,_ "is because we were able to break his level five code. So the prize is being recruited. We also got our offer, you can say. Of course, only the best can actually work at one of these underground things."

"I take it that breaking level five codes is difficult then?" Michael asked, embracing Maria from the back. Michael was getting anxious, so he was simulating it by that motion. Maria didn't care. She loved having Michael so close, and knew that Michael enjoyed her closeness too.

If May Ling and Allan had been drinking, well, most of the drink would have probably been on the floor by now. They had practically choked themselves with Michael's question.

"Difficult? _Difficult_ he asks!" May Ling said, in a melodramatic tone –Maria knew the tone just too well; she had been using it since she was 7 years old.

"There's only one more level to break," Allan said, all serious now. "The _un_breakable six. It is rumored among Network Keepers that if you do that, you'll get to meet Dave himself. We are at it all the time, but not even when we do group attacks, does it work. But once…" Allan said, his eyes getting dreamy, "once we messed with one of his level five internal codes…" May Ling had gotten the same dreamy expression. The six teens only blinked.

"Come, we'll show you!" Allan said, walking to a door next to the one they had come in. Maria turned to look at Michael. What were they going to see? Some stupid computer program? Green lines falling on a computer's monitor? They followed the other two, who had already disappeared into the other room.

This one was well lighted, and it certainly looked like the place a computer junkie would be. There were around ten plasma monitors lined up around all four walls, each separated by a small wood division. The desks were also wood made, and very large. There were computer books of just about every size and color everywhere, chip bags, soda cans –both empty and unopened- papers and once-paper-now-ball papers, towers and towers of CD's on and under the desks, all kinds of action figures from computer games, some printers and scanners, walls that were just falling apart with every single poster there was about The Matrix along with games, and, Maria guessed, Japanese cartoons. And last but not least, four guys and one girl all looking at the furthest monitor at one corner. They were so consumed by what they were seeing that none of them noticed the newcomers.

Apparently, neither May Ling nor Allan noticed them either, because they went directly to the wall they had in front, and there, where nothing was put under or around it –not even an empty chips bag or a lonely CD or a Neo picture- was a paper sheet on a frame. They moved closer to get a better look. It was a letter, written with an old fashioned typewriter.

"_Well done. You've effectively messed with the time controllers and made your beloved administrator go crazy. I'm impressed, maybe you'll get to level six one day… Thanks for showing me my mistake. D." _

And that was it. No date, no personal signature. Just four lonely numbers at the bottom of it, 1305. Both Network Keepers were staring at it as if it were the Holy Grail. Which was exactly the opposite of how the six of them looked: Bored and completely unimpressed.

"I take it that was written by Dave?" Max said, finally breaking the silence, scratching his right earlobe.

"Yes!" Allan said, "We know it's from Dave not only because it was sent directly to us, and the fact that we couldn't mess with the time controllers any more, but his numbers are there too. You know what I mean, _his_ numbers?"

Six pairs of eyes unglued themselves from the framed white paper and looked at Allan saying _NO,_ "Oh, of course… it's his hacker signature. 1-0-3-5. Every time he has broken a code, he leaves that behind. That's how we know it was him."

"Couldn't anyone else know that and write you? It's pretty stupid if you ask me." Michael said, annoyed.

"Of course not!" May Ling said, defensively, "Only a level 5 Network Keeper knows that!" And now us, Maria silently thought, not that she saw any advantage to that. After all, they all knew Dave on a shake-hands basis, didn't they?

However, their conversation had finally attracted the other five people in the room. "You are talking about Dave?" the only girl from that group asked aloud, "Because our contact from Malaysia has just informed us that he's pretty sure that Dave is at his base right this moment. We are just waiting for a picture of him."

Maria snorted. Dave was keeping his word to Kyle, that was for sure. _"When you talk to Jeremy next week, he'll tell you he has confirmed visual contact with the mythical Dave in six other places over three different continents. Trust me, I'll make sure of it."_

Allan was already gone before the other girl had finished her line, but May Ling stayed in place. "Aren't you curious too?" Michael asked. May Ling only shrugged. "It may take hours before he sends that picture. Anyway, you obviously don't care about that and since you are not all that impressed with our great accomplishment of hacking into one of Dave's systems, I now know you aren't undercover Network Keepers either."

"Undercover?" Max asked, frowning.

"Anyone would die to know how we did it," May Ling said, guiding them outside the room with an annoyed look on her face. "We have known for two years now that Dave sends undercover Keepers to see what we are up to. If you ask me, that's cheating. He shouldn't know what we are thinking doing next just as we don't know what he's going to do next."

Join the club, Maria thought. If May Ling thought it was cheating that he sent spies on her from time to time, she would go ballistic if she had been followed, kidnapped and pretty much ordered into accepting a life or death offering four days ago…

By now, they were getting out of the first big room with the servers in it. "How did you find out about the undercover Keepers?" Liz asked, a thoughtful expression on her face. "I mean, wouldn't he be cautious enough to not let you guys know?"

May Ling shrugged again. "We just did. Another Network Keeper apparently surprised the undercover bastard, and let us know. We've been careful ever since. You know, what we say and how we say it…"

"So, you were suspecting us?" Michael said, his eyes still glued to the screen in the servers room, him being the only one that hadn't gotten out of there yet.

"We suspect everyone, nothing personal. Anyway, anything that interests you from this department? We truly don't see many white cards around this place and, well, it would be nice if at least one of you decided to be here…" May Ling left her words hanging. It wasn't till that moment that Maria noticed that May Ling's card was black.

"Why is your card black?" Maria asked, confused, "shouldn't you be able to go everywhere around this place?"

"Oh, yes, but Network Keepers only care about system stuff. We are not supposed to snoop around like White Cards like you do. We know what's going on just to a degree. Only level five projects. And we suspect that there are level six projects going on somewhere in the complex, since this is the most secure one and all… We can only imagine what kind of work people do behind so many doors."

Oh, you have no idea, Maria silently said, having the distinctive assurance that they were a level 6 project, whatever the hell that meant. However, her thoughts were shattered by the last thing she would ever think Michael would say: "So, what do you have to do to become a Network Keeper?"

--------------------------------------------------

"We can't risk it," Max said to Liz in an almost hushed tone, both lying on the living room's larger couch, both staring at the white ceiling. "If that camera can pick up something different from us, it might pick something different from you too, or Kyle. You can't go there…"

"But he doesn't know what he's seeing then?" Liz asked. Though Max couldn't see her, he knew Liz was frowning, deep in thought about what he had just told her.

"No… but I bet he has some pretty good ideas. Anyway, if he relates anything remotely alien with you…" Max left his words unfinished, just hugging her.

"He sounds like a nice person, though…" Liz said a minute after, caressing Max's hand. "Like he's really trying to get along with you guys… It must be difficult for him…"

"It sure is difficult for us…" Max said, sighing. It was just too weird to have someone asking them, so openly, about their powers.

"Was it difficult with me?" Liz asked, turning to look at him. "I mean, when I started asking all those questions," Liz said smiling, blushing a little bit. They had been so young then, so innocent.

"I had actually practiced that one," Max said, smiling at his wife. "I knew you were going to ask sooner or later, so… It was different. It was you," Max said looking at her. That moment in time seemed now so, so far away.

"You know, now that I'm thinking about it," Liz said, her skin getting a redder tone, "I never finished asking all those questions… it was a pretty long list, you know?"

Max arched both eyebrows. "You still have more questions? As if I had any secrets left for you!" Max hugged her a little bit tighter, making Liz laugh and wince at the same time.

"You are still sore?" Max asked, relaxing his embrace.

"Let's just say that exercising and laughing do not mix well… It'll go away, sooner or later…" Liz re-accommodated herself by Max's side on the couch. "You know, Ray was really worried that we might feel something wrong and wouldn't be able to reach each other… Sometimes I think he's terrified you or Michael will tear this place apart because he said something wrong to either me or Maria."

"He better keep thinking that then, because tearing this place apart would be the first thing we both would do if something was wrong with you two, or with Kyle, or with Isabel." And Max wasn't joking. He couldn't really picture it in his head, but just the raw emotions that situation aroused inside him were enough indication as to what they would do.

"I know," Liz said quietly, "so don't ever leave me out again, okay? For one moment this morning, I truly thought… I truly thought something was terribly wrong with you. If you had kept me out of the connection for one more instant…" Max felt Liz's apprehension through their connection and closed his eyes. It didn't matter that he had done it because of her safety and health, Liz just didn't see it that way. His wife turned to look at him, putting her weight on her arms, over his chest.

"Max, our connection is the only way I have—no, that _we_ both have to know the other is okay, here, out there, wherever. Without it… I can't even remember how it was before you, and this morning I got a very nasty reminder. I don't want to feel that coldness again, okay?" Max lowered his eyes. But what if—

"If something is wrong with my health," Liz said almost as if reading his mind, "or if those headaches come again, we'll figure it out. But don't just close off on me, or I'll be the one tearing this place apart." Max smiled at her in a way of saying: _I'm so defeated by you_. Liz returned her own _I know I have defeated you_ smile.

"Well, at least Jake would be thrilled to see you do something…" Max said in a teasing tone, his muscles relaxing a little bit from today's tension.

Liz frowned. "You know, I was surprised you haven't done anything but play cars and talk these two days, but I think I know what he's doing."

"You do? Because frankly, Isabel was saying something about that when we were coming to the Cafeteria at noon…"

"I think he's gathering information. You know, before he plans the actual tests," Max winced at the word, but because Liz was now resting her head over his chest, she didn't really notice. He knew he had to grow out of that habit every time he heard the words _lab, experiment, test, subject _and _project_, but so far, he had failed at that.

"That may be," Max said, thoughtful. "I wonder what he's going to ask us to do though… He seemed quite disappointed when I refused to heal under… a controlled situation or whatever." Max felt the same emotions he had when Isabel had asked him what he would do if Jake could convince him. So much was at stake with that sole power.

"It really bothers you, doesn't it," Liz said, placing her hand over his.

"Of course it does. Your safety is at stake. And Kyle's, and who knows what other people. We don't even know if in six months those children from Phoenix are going to start sparkling around… I just hope I haven't made their lives… like ours…"

Max knew that in six months those kids were going to plague his dreams, and his days, and his thoughts. It was a different thing, alright, because healing cancer was a whole lot more difficult than closing a bullet wound, more consuming and definitely more exhausting, but was there any difference when it came to _changing_ someone? He surely hoped so. But there was nothing he could do about that. What he actually could do was leave this place before that six month mark hit. In six months they would have a very good idea of what to expect. A time to make decisions again, he guessed.

"You gave them life, Max, just like you did with me and Kyle, and Valenti." Liz's voice came reassuringly through the fog of his mind. "Your touch changed us, but in more ways than you can imagine. They'll be fine, _we_ are fine too Max. Don't worry about that."

Oh, I won't worry about that _yet,_ Max silently thought. He had way too much in his head right now to worry about problems he would have to face in the near future. Nope, his plate was full, as it was now.

"Did you know what Michael was up to?" Liz asked out of the blue, changing the subject, trying to take away his own dark thoughts.

When they had left the Network Keepers Base that afternoon, pretty much shocked at what Michael had requested about getting an "internship" or whatever at the Keepers place, Maria had abruptly stopped in the middle of the hall, outside their apartments.

"_You are so not going to become a computer junkie! What the hell do you know about computers in the first place!" Maria asked, her entire body sending vibes of confusion and disbelief, the other four equally eager to hear his answer. But Michael had just opened his own apartment's door, and had pulled Maria inside, the rest of the group following swiftly, Kyle closing the door behind him. Clearly, Michael didn't want this conversation on the corridors' security system tape._

"_Who said anything about me being a computer geek?" Michael said defensively. "All I want is to spend a few days with them and see what the hell they know. After that, I'll be more than happy to get out of there. Anyone can fake interest in computers for a while, that doesn't mean you have to actually know a thing about them!"_

_It was so obvious, but Max felt a little bit relieved. Michael's actions were understandable now._

"_Oh… sure… for a minute there, you just scared me…" Maria said, losing her rudeness._

"_What is that supposed to mean?" Michael asked outraged this time. Max had smiled, Isabel had smiled too, but Kyle hadn't been able to suppress a little laugh. Maria kept silent for a whole minute._

"_It's just that I can't picture you sitting all day in front of a computer, that's all… it's not you."_

That was true. Michael was so not the computer junkie type, no matter how much he loved computer games. That was as far as Michael would go with cracking codes, in fact.

"It took me by surprise as it did the rest of us. I wasn't expecting Michael to take any kind of interest this soon, especially not one that involved computers…"

Liz smiled. "No, not that, I meant, what did he tell you about where he was at lunch time. I mean, his lunch time. Before he met with us at the Cafeteria."

"_You didn't go to the kitchen for Tabasco sauce," Max had said to Michael when they were settling for diner at his apartment early that night. _

_Michael had glanced at him while opening some chips. The two of them were alone in the kitchen while everybody else was talking in the living room. Max knew that he had to approach his best friend alone if he was expecting a true answer._

"_No, I went to find a part of Maria's present," was all Michael's answer. Max had frowned in surprise. "Something Dave actually suggested. That's why I left early, if that's what you were wondering too."_

"And he didn't sound too happy about it, either," Max finished telling Liz the small exchange of words. "I mean, that it had come from Dave or something…"

"Dave suggested something to Michael concerning Maria?" Liz said, lifting her eyes to him, amused. Max didn't blame her, he had been equally astonished to hear that.

"He didn't tell me what, but I got the feeling that he's not so convinced about it. Like he's still undecided. All I could get was that he didn't want Maria knowing it either, so I guess he's considering the advice seriously." No, Michael hadn't been precisely chatty about his whole meeting with Dave, but there had been something about Maria, Max was sure, that had set an inextinguishable flame in his best friend's eyes. That flame that ensured that Michael was dead serious about uncovering Dave's secrets. Max knew that Dave wouldn't have dared to use Maria against Michael, but maybe in that weird exchange of information they had had, Michael had gotten that impression.

Whatever it had been, Max trusted Michael with some inner strength, or energy, or intuition or something. Max trusted Michael on some basic level in the fact that Michael could get to know whatever he wanted about Dave, and about this place, and about their enemies and allies in general. And though Max didn't want to admit it to himself, he had a vague memory that in another lifetime, that had been one of Michael's most valuable characteristics too. Apparently, something that hadn't passed unnoticed by Max in either of their two lifetimes, and certainly something that made Max trust a good deal in Michael's judgment regarding these things.

Because whatever Michael got to discover about Dave, or about this place, or about the motives behind the offer they had accepted, would be essential for their future lives.

_TBC…_


	15. Introspective

**XV**

**Introspective**

It was such a bright day that Liz had to narrow her eyes to prevent the sun blinding her. She was standing outside the Crashdown Café, her reflection caught in the glass. She wasn't working today, was she? No, she wasn't, because she was wearing normal clothes, not the aqua uniform with the alien antennae on her head. But why was she here, then? Just as it usually happened in dreams, it all made sense on Liz's mind. She was here to do an assignment. A History assignment, something about questions, she now knew.

She entered the restaurant, everyone minding their own business. Nothing had changed inside that place, not the wallpaper that Max had once made into an animated memo pad; nor the kitchen where Michael had scowled at her best friend more times than she could remember; nor the counter where she had been giggling with Maria since the day they had started to work four years ago. Nothing had changed, and nothing was out of place… except for one thing. Or more likely, for one person.

Dave was seated at the counter, his eyes fixed on a paper in front of him, a pencil rhythmically thumping again and again in an anxious act of one who has been waiting for a long time now. Somehow Liz was expecting to see Isabel here, but now she couldn't remember why. It was Dave who she was meeting, that made perfect sense. Standing in the middle of the restaurant, she suddenly thought that she was supposed to have a paper with her as well. Wasn't the assignment about answering each other's questions?

At the counter, Dave had taken a napkin, and had started to shred it into tiny pieces. He hadn't noticed her standing there, and to Liz Dave's act seemed to be something very personal. He was finished with shredding the white napkin and was putting the pieces neatly into a tight bunch, all his concentration pinned on those little squares. Liz looked around. Wasn't Max supposed to be there too, doing the same assignment as well? With someone else? Liz felt her stomach tightening… she couldn't remember why she was so apprehensive about Max's partner right now, though… something that had something to do with… was it Kyle?

Liz shook her head, she couldn't keep Dave waiting any longer now. She sat next to him just as he was starting to put the squares back in place, as if they were pieces of a napkin puzzle. Dave lifted his eyes, surprised to see her, and a second later he smiled at her a little bit sheepish, as if he were a little boy caught doing something he had been told once and again to not do. A guilty pleasure.

"So, what's your favorite ice cream?" Dave started to ask, his pencil firmed over the paper, his eyes staring at her. Liz frowned. She had been expecting something more difficult. "Vanilla," she said, somehow feeling like she had done this thing before.

"What's the best thing that has ever happened to you?" Dave asked, as he was scribbling Liz's last answer. Liz frowned even deeper. Weren't there a lot of questions between the ice cream one and the best thing one? She _had_ done this before, hadn't she?

Dave started to tap with his pencil again, waiting for her response. "Meeting Max, marrying him," Liz said smiling, her eyes turning to her wedding ring. But if she was still at school, why was she married?

"What's the worst thing that has ever happened to you?" Dave asked, his eyes following the trace his pencil was leaving as he was writing her husband's name. This time Liz didn't answer. She just didn't know the answer to that one. Could she break it into sections? The worst thing that had happened to her in a) family, b) friends, c) school, d) other. Or could it be according to year? Or better yet to month… There were so many different kinds of "worst". Feeling Max dying? Abandoning her parents? An uncertain future? All around just plain fear?

"I don't know," she honestly answered, "What's the worst thing that has ever happened to you?" Dave stopped looking at his questions and, thinking for a second, he leveled his eyes to her. "Can I break it into sections?" He simply said, making Liz smile. Wasn't that just a great idea or what?

Liz waked up still giggling a little, but she couldn't remember what was so funny. For one second too she couldn't remember where she was now. A motel? Her disorientation stopped as her eyes caught the red numbers of her alarm clock, 4:23. No, she was in no motel, but in an apartment, slash underground complex, slash prison. Liz closed her eyes at that last definition. Was this really a prison?

She turned herself to lie face up, glancing at Max who was sleeping at her left side. She didn't want to awake him, and that meant not only not making a sound, but not sending the wrong vibes as well. He really looked like he could use a lot of sleep right now. He hadn't said it out loud –he didn't have to-, but Max was dreading her visit to Dave later that day more than she was. What was he going to ask her? Her favorite ice cream? Liz fixed her eyes to the ceiling. Yeah, she had been dreaming about that paper work back in Sophmore year, when their pairing couldn't have been worse at the time. Gosh, that had been a lifetime ago.

A lifetime ago… what a weird expression it was. What was a _lifetime__ago_ anyway? Fourteen years ago she had been a five year old whose biggest dream was going to Harvard. A dream she had pursued for the next ten and a half years, until a strayed bullet had changed that dream, shattered it though she hadn't known it just yet. A Sunday morning she had wakened to another busy early shift, thinking about her homework, her tips and her plans later that day with Maria. Around 3:00 p.m. she had been giggling and feeling a twinge guilty about Maria calling Kyle a puddle. When she had gone to sleep that night the world just didn't make sense. Her life had turned into an impossible situation. She had been shot, apparently healed by no other than her lab partner, and now she was standing in front of the mirror looking at a silver handprint on her abdomen. Madness.

And that madness, that totally inability to understand what was happening had been what had saved Max in the first place. Why she had kept things quiet. _Don't say anything, please._ Max's plea still echoed on Liz's mind. His fear had been so tangible for her right that instant. She had lied for him without a second thought, but once things had started to sink in... Once her mind started to raise questions… Once that handprint had been glowing on her skin, making her heart almost stopped, catching her breath on her lungs… Max had been truly closed to be betrayed.

But Liz needed answers, needed to put the whole picture together, where everything made sense, and by doing so putting the world back together as well. The world where one didn't get shot by accident so just then you would be miracle healed. A world that didn't have lab partners with some sort of super powers and where the only way you could get a handprint glowing on your stomach was if you had had way too many beers and a green spray can by your side. So Liz had kept quiet, turning and tossing all that night, having dreams that would made envious a drug addict, not knowing at all how she was going to face Max the next day in class.

When she had woken up that Monday morning, she had gone right to the mirror, hoping that it had all been a really bad dream. But the handprint had stubbornly remained in place, glowing even more than the day before, and Liz's heart had sunk. So the world still didn't make sense. For one second she thought about going to her parents, going to Maria, going to _someone_ so she wasn't alone in a world that was just plain wrong. But the problem had been that no one she knew was a science geek as she was. No one would approach it with the calm, rational mind that would give her the calm, rational answers she needed. Her parents wouldn't understand, Maria would freak. Liz had to do this on her own in order to get the right answers too. And that meant confronting Max. And Max was probably going to deny it, wasn't he?

A lifetime ago Liz had taken her backpack with a dress with a bullet hole in it just in case the handprint wasn't going to be enough to put Max against the wall and made him answer her. Every second that the world was spinning out of control made Liz felt helpless and scared. Why was Max Evans able to heal a bullet hole and no one else knew that? Except that Max hadn't been at school early that morning. The bell had ringed and he still hadn't been there. For one second there Liz had thought that Max was just going to disappear, leaving her with a million questions and an un-washable handprint on her stomach –oh, she had tried disappearing it with everything she had been able to think of, and that handprint had remained immaculately clean on her stomach.

Liz turned to see Max still sleeping. A lifetime ago she would have never guessed her soul mate had been watching her from afar for ten years. She had been so blind, so caught up on her own world to notice that Max Evans "was staring at her again". _Not anymore,_ Liz whispered to herself. She was never again leaving Max alone, or out, or anything like that, even if she herself came out of the future to tell her that. It just couldn't work that way. Whatever was going to happen in the future, keeping them apart couldn't possibly be the answer. Maybe that was the lesson to learn here: Without each other, there was no future.

Max's hand involuntary moved, catching her attention. He was dreaming, she knew, his eyes moving below his eyelids, his breathing increasing. It didn't seem to Liz that her husband was having a nice dream, so she frowned, and reaching for his hand, she said in a whisper his name.

"Max…"

Max's eyes opened immediately, his body startled, reacting as if he had received a shock of electricity by Liz's touch. For one second, Liz could tell Max was disoriented, his eyes adjusting to the semi dark of the room. He turned to see her, recognizing her instantly, relief replacing his disorientation.

"You were having a bad dream?" Liz asked him in a low voice, concerned.

"I'm not sure," Max said, sleepiness trying to return to his eyes, his voice a little bit drowsy. "Something about you and this interview…" Max said, turning to his side so he could face her. "Tell me that everything is going to be okay…" Max said, half smiling, half frowning. Liz reached Max's shoulder with her hand.

"Hey… don't worry so much. Things are going… fine… so far, so stop worrying like this, okay? You make me feel guilty about it. I'm the one suppose to be worrying like that, not you."

"You're not worried about it?" Max asked, his eyebrows going up. Liz couldn't tell if he was joking or was seriously surprised by her words.

"A little bit… but at least I'm not having a nightmare about it…" Liz said, snuggling to him. There just wasn't a better place on Earth to be than in Max's embrace.

"Did I awake you?" Max asked above a whisper, soothing her back so she could go back to sleep.

"Nah, I awoke from a dream myself. It was something about school actually…" Lifting her face so she could look at him, Liz frowned. "You know, I never got to know how you and Kyle finished that History assignment…"

"Uh?" Max asked, opening his already closed eyes. "What History assignment?"

"The one about the questions, right in Sophmore year. You know, I was paired with Isabel and Maria with Michael…"

Max winced. "What are you trying to do? Give me another nightmare?" Max joked, making her laughed. She had finished her interview with Isabel before going to bed on that Aladdin motel –she knew the name wasn't Aladdin, but Maria's continuous reference to it as that was all Liz could remember of how it was actually called. They had taken Maria's assignment and scribble down each other's answer on napkins. She had then transcribed them right before class. Isabel had just waved her hand over it, making Liz wished she had powers of her own. Gee, it had been a wise man whoever had said "be careful what you wish for"…

"It was the weirdest thing ever," Max said, trying to suppress a yawn. They had stayed awake 'til pretty late before going to bed, and both had to be in two different places soon. "I mean, I had resigned myself to not present it at all, but then Kyle just came out of nowhere and stood in front of my locker. And then, he just started with the next question we had. It took me about three seconds to figure out Kyle was in some kind of truce-limbo or whatever, so I answered him while taking my own assignment out."

"You and Kyle made a two minutes truce over a History assignment?" Liz asked, smiling at that picture, especially remembering her conversation with Kyle at the Janitors closet right before class, which had given her anything but smiles at that time...

"Don't look at me. I'm not the one who started it." Max said, yawning again. This time Liz yawned too.

"Well, Kyle did sort of need all the help he could get with History. Certainly _not_ his favorite subject. He barely passed it that year, if I remember correctly. He could barely take that final test, especially knowing three of his classmates were aliens…"

Kyle had barely looked at her, or any of them for that matter, all that week. He had been totally freaked out, so all of them had just stayed away of his path. If Kyle had wanted to talk, he would have chosen when and how. Besides, they all had had their own problems to deal with, and their own persons to avoid, Liz shamefully thought, so Kyle had been just another thing to panic about before she could actually take the first plane to Florida after her last test.

"I don't know how we made it that week…" Max said, embracing Liz a little bit harder, Liz ignoring her sore muscles. "So much could have gone so wrong…" Max gave a long sigh, making Liz think that her husband wasn't sure this week was any different from that of three years ago. "I really don't know how we made it that week," Max silently repeated in the dark.

"Just like we are doing now," Liz answered sounding confident, "one day at a time."

-----------------------------------------------------------

Isabel opened her eyes in frustration. It wasn't even 5:00 a.m. so why hadn't it worked? For the past two days she had been trying to dreamwalk Dave, despite Max's warning about dreamwalking anyone outside their circle. Especially since they had agreed that they would "admit" Tess had had the power of dreamwalking. Kyle had already told Dave it had been Tess who had found Max, and who had found Lauree Dupree later on… If Dave saw her and remembered her on his dreams, he could connect the dots… But she just needed a glimpse to make sure things were according to plan. Maybe catch something useful too, something about where they could begin to look for Dave's past and secrets.

Dreams were confusing at best on any people's head, Isabel knew better than anyone on this planet, but they always had something significant. And that something was what Isabel was trying to get a glimpse of. She wasn't going to stay more than thirty seconds on that man's head so he wouldn't think it odd she was there to begin with. But the problem was that Isabel couldn't get into his dreams. It was as if he hadn't been sleeping at all, and that was just impossible. She had been trying to dreamwalk him once every hour since 10 o'clock. If he went to sleep early or late, she would have caught him no matter what.

Of course, what Isabel didn't know was that Dave wasn't sleeping according to U.S. time zones. For him, lunch time was actually diner time. Before he had been called to be notified the kids were going to be taken the next day, Dave had been on Berlin, closing another deal. It always took him a long time to get adjust to the new time zones when he was traveling. Except that this time he hadn't even bother with trying because by the end of the week, he was going back to see if things had gone right with his new deal on the European country.

So, by 4:49 am, - 11:49 am, Berlin time- Dave was happily putting his puzzle together while going over a million details on his head about the things he had to do while being on Minnesota, as far away from sleeping as one could get.

But because Isabel didn't know this –none of them did- she was seriously starting to freak out about why Dave was –apparently- _undreamwalkable_. Gosh, was that even a word? Isabel thought staring at the ceiling. She had been able to dreamwalk since she was twelve, and though she had practically not used that power more than three or four times before Max healed Liz, she had gotten a lot better in the short time between dreamwalking Max to save him and this night. And it was getting easier with every time she tried it.

So… why wasn't she able to dreamwalk Dave? Okay, she didn't have a picture of him, but he wasn't all that far away to begin with… Maybe he was out of reach because he left the place during the night… Or maybe… maybe Dave was also an alien? The thought came so suddenly that made Isabel's sleepiness go away in a second. Could that be it? She couldn't dreamwalk Dave because he wasn't human? Granted, the only "alien" she had ever dreamwalk was her brother, and Max wasn't exactly 100 alien either… Isabel went cold. What would be the implications if Dave weren't human?

No… he had to be human, right? But as Isabel went through her mind about what they knew about Dave, there wasn't anything definitive about Dave's species status… It could explain why he wasn't sleeping at night… Could there be any other explanation to why she wasn't able to dreamwalk him?

Isabel bit her lower lip, in an almost perfect imitation of Liz's nervous habit. So, if she couldn't dreamwalk Dave, maybe she could find out the truth about his origins by dreamwalking his best friend… Wasn't that what Ray had told them? That Dave and Jake had been friends forever? Sure Jake would know…

Except that dreamwalking Jake felt… even more dangerous. It was tempting, but the reason she hadn't even try it once yet was because Jake could be more incline to notice things out of place in his dreams and to somehow link her presence there to her actual powers… it was a very long shot, she knew, but she couldn't risk it, at least not yet, not when Jake was asking them all about their powers and had that on his mind. She would let some time pass before going into his dreams, assuming, of course, the guy actually slept… Because there was the very real possibility that Jake was just like Dave…

Isabel didn't like this. Didn't like it at all… All these doubts… They had assumed Dave was human because his story made sense from a human point of view, but then again, Kal Langley had lived on Earth for more than 50 years as a human being too… Dave could just happen to be another alien who had taken an interest on them… After all, he knew about the seal…

The more and more she thought about it, the more and more she was tempted to dreamwalk Jake, but then, a second thought occurred to her: There was also Ray.

-----------------------------------------------------------

"You're insane," Ray simply said, not kidding, but not really worried either. A man who was stating the obvious.

Jake chocked. "Well, they do say there's a thin line between being a genius and being a nuts, but I though Dave was our resident wacko…"

"Dave is not asking me to teach _them_ how to escape," Ray emphasized. What the hell was wrong with good ole Jake? Had he really _lost _it? Ray was certainly managing all the pressure he could get with the human side of the group, and now Jake wanted him to teach the rest of them to escape? "I mean, did you even tell Dave you were planning this?" Ray said, frowning, a man in total disbelief.

"Sure I did, yesterday afternoon while you were looking at the new security systems. I admit it, he didn't take it well at first, but you are taking it worse. Worse than him and worse that I had anticipated. What's the matter?"

"What's the matter?" Ray asked bewildered, "Do you have any idea what those kids can do?"

"An idea, yes. But so far that's all that I have…" Jake cryptically answered. "But come on, Ray, you know these kids better than I do, and _I_ do feel comfortable with this plan. It will help them, it will help me, we'll all get something out of it. It's perfect." Jake ended, shrugging, smiling. Well, maybe Jake couldn't see it, but Ray knew the doc had, indeed, finally lost it.

"Jake, look, you're right, I know what they can do, and sometimes I even got a glimpse of it myself when I was watching them, so trust me, the last thing I want to do is being in a room with those three, asking them to blow anything but me. So, thanks, but no thanks."

"But you said it yourself right before they got here: They are good kids. Or is there something you are not telling me?" Jake asked, a little bit disappointed that Ray wasn't exactly thrilled about his idea. Of course, since lately no one seemed to be thrilled with any of his ideas, Jake was thinking that this was getting old…

"Jake, doc, I got to spend five hours with Liz, Maria and Kyle everyday. So far, it has been just two days, and they are still as tense as if they were sticks. So, what that tells me is that you can't be having a party down there either. They are just about to snap at the first wrong word, and frankly, I don't want to be the poor twig that is going to be broken when they finally let go of all this tension and stress. Why do you think I stay as far away from your place as possible?"

Jake smiled a malicious smile. "I thought that was because Samantha's lab is just right around the corner…" Ray blushed, and God, did he hate to blush.

"Well, no. Of course not. I figured that the last thing they would want to see is two of us with them at the Lab. Which is exactly what will happen if I say 'yes' to this 'plan' of yours." Ray said, hoping he had successfully changed the subject.

Jake looked thoughtful. "Okay," he said, slowly thinking the whole thing through, "there are still a lot of things to plan out, especially once Dave goes away leaving just the two of us here, but I'm sure we can work something out."

Ray sighed. Why couldn't Jake just see that the last thing these kids needed was two people watching them at all times? And gosh, why did Jake had to chose today of all days to share his thoughts with him? It was barely 5:49 in the morning and he had barely slept at all to begin with.

Of course, since Jake didn't need to sleep all that much, he had come to his place when Ray was just coming out of his latest dream. And so he was tire, and had not slept well, not only because he was tense, but because he had had one of the weirdest dreams ever too. So, Ray still needed to shower, shave and have breakfast to feel part of the waking world again, and because he hadn't done anything of those things, he was beginning to wonder that the one who wasn't understanding what was being said was him and not Jake.

"You look tired, Ray," Jake said, carefully watching him. "You didn't sleep well?"

"Jake, do you know what day is today?" Ray tiredly asked him.

"Sure, Wednesday, February 5th. Want me to tell you the year too?" Jake joked, Ray didn't even try to smile.

"You do know that Liz's meeting is today, right? I'm not exactly looking forward to deal with Maria, but she had been a pretty good sport so far, just as Kyle was yesterday, but you, my friend… You I don't envy at all…" Jake frowned, clearly not understanding where he was going. "You'll get to have Max with you, and that's the reason number one I'm so not accepting your idea: Max worried about Liz, or Michael worried about Maria… no thanks. I'll take Samantha any given day given the choice. _That's_ how much I want to avoid those kids concerning their powers."

Jake rolled his eyes. "They are not 'powers', you know. It's not as if they were wizards with magic wands or anything like that… They are just using a part of—" Jake stopped himself. "As if you were interested… But Ray, they accepted, and Dave said it was okay, just that we should take it slowly. Come on, I really need your knowledge on this kind of stuff."

Ray was still unconvinced. "Jake, look, you are a great buddy, but if I'm having weird dreams now about them, I don't even want to think what is going to happen to me if I'm actually working with them."

"Weird dreams?" Jake asked, clearly not thinking that the rest of the sentence had any relevance. But then again, if Jake was interested in Zodiac Signs, surely enough he was taking an interest on how to interpret dreams as well…

"Oh no, don't go all Freudian on me, Jake. I had enough with all that 'you're a Scorpios' crap, so don't start trying to analyze my dreams now." Ray defensively said.

"I'm just asking, that's all," Jake shrugged. "You know I'm not _that _kind of doctor. I don't 'analyze' dreams. But you seem pretty tense," Jake ended, apparently a little bit offended by Ray's denial to tell him what his dreams were about. Gees, sometimes the doc could be really sensitive about unimportant stuff like this.

"It was no big deal," Ray started, shrugging as well, "and it was actually kind of funny too. Something about if you and Dave were aliens. I'm telling you, Jake, this whole thing, is messing up with my head way too much. Especially since Isabel kept asking me that…"

"Isabel?" Jake asked.

"Yeah, she was in my dream too. So, you see? I'm now dreaming that they are the ones asking if _you_ are the aliens. Though sometimes I do believe Dave comes from another planet when he just says things out of the blue…"

Jake smiled, clearly used to Dave's sudden ideas, though he seemed thoughtful. "Yeah, I see your point," he absently said, "but could you at least help _me_ to plan this thing out. Maybe you'll warm up to the idea once you see I'm in one piece by the end of the week."

Ray sighed, a defeated sigh. "As long as it is just you and not them… Are you sure you don't want to take the day off today? I don't think Dave would mind…"

"Yes, he would, and I would too. Anyway, we need to start planning then."

"What, you mean like _now_?"

"Sure thing," Jake said, raising his arm to look at his watch. "Though, we should send a message. This might take a little more time than we actually have.

-----------------------------------------------------------

Max was running. He wasn't sure from what, or why, but he knew he wanted to be running. It had started with reaching a mail box, but now he just wanted to keep running. He felt so free, so incredible free by just moving forward and forward. He felt his lungs expand and then letting go the air in a perfect rhythm. He felt the rush of the air and heard the wind whispering as he was flying by. He kept running, thinking things so clearly now. They would go away, and no one would ever find them. She would run with him, be free with him, and he wouldn't hide, they wouldn't hide. He just had to tell her…

He just had to tell her…

He just had to tell her _and_ them. Max's running didn't feel freeing anymore. He had to reach them, and now he wasn't running nearly fast enough. Someone was dead, or was going to die, or both. His mind wasn't clear anymore either. He couldn't think straight. He was running to warn them, that much he knew. He was running through the streets of Roswell, at night, but things were so wrong. Didn't anyone see it? Couldn't they see that the world had so drastically changed? That no one was safe? Of course they didn't see it. They weren't after anyone but the people Max cared about. And that people was across of town, on a restaurant he had seen his entire life, and had passed half of it in.

He had to warn her.

Liz wasn't safe, his family wasn't safe, no one who knew him was safe. Max kept running, in his dream the streets getting impossibly long, the night so dark he could barely make the corners. He stumbled and fell, but he didn't care. If he didn't reach the Crashdown Café soon, someone else would reach it, and that someone else would be able to erase from existence everyone he cared about. So he kept running, his breathing now frenetically coming out in gasps, his rhythm anything but perfect. Someone had died in his arms, and nothing he had tried to do had helped. He had been helpless, and, as amazingly as it was, he had also been powerless. All the things he could do and yet he hadn't been able to heal. Something as natural to him as to feel other people's energy flowing and fixing that flowing when it was disrupted, and he hadn't been able to…

Max had to protect Liz, and that was all he could think of as the Crashdown Café was finally coming to his view, the cars coming from both sides of the street. He barely noticed them, he just crossed, reaching with all his will the doors—

And then a loud beep went off.

Max woke up as if he were coming out of a very deep dive. He took air by his mouth as if he were taking air for the first time in four minutes, feeling for one instant that he was falling into nothingness, just to realize he wasn't, the bed feeling extremely solid beneath him. His heart was also beating as if he were coming from a marathon. A second later, he turned to his side, instinctively knowing that Liz wasn't there. The light coming from the bathroom told him where his wife was, and trying to calm himself down, Max started to take deep slow breaths, fixing his eyes on the ceiling.

It was now 6:04 in the morning, his alarm clock waiting one more minute to go on. What had been the beep then if not his alarm? Max looked at his own night table, his G.E.S. glowing in blue. A message had been sent.

"_Change of hour. Meet me at 8:00 am. Sorry for the short notice. Jake." _

Max put the G.E.S. on the table, letting himself fell back into the bed. He had barely slept at all, so he was somehow grateful for the extra hour, but he knew he wouldn't sleep. And even if he did manage to fall asleep, it would be into another one of these nightmares that had plagued his dreams all night long. They all had to do with Liz, and the fact that he couldn't reach her. He had to warn her, he had to tell her that something was wrong… The frustrating part was that all his dreams had been about situations that had been real on their past. None of his fears were illusions or fantasies he had made. Not even paranoia. There was always someone in the shadows, waiting for them to make a mistake…

Was Dave another mistake? Was he another 'someone waiting in the shadows'? Max closed his eyes, barely regaining a normal breathing pattern. If Dave was another mistake or not was still to be proven, but Max knew that if they were on the road, things wouldn't be much different. Not after the FBI had almost caught them, and certainly not after Dave had caught them just to let them go three days later.

Max told himself that it was about time he let go of the "what if's" and that he had to start dealing with the "what next's". They had made a choice, period. Dave had been playing with them, just as Michael had said, but Max didn't think Dave was playing with them now. Sure, Dave had motivations Max couldn't see, but one thing was true: Dave couldn't afford to keep playing with them if he wanted them to willingly stay.

Closing his eyes and taking a last deep breath, Max finally calmed himself down. Whatever was on Dave's mind had to be big, Max thought for the millionth time. It had to be big because Dave had gone into so much trouble. Dave had been planning on how to get them for a long time, because he had set things on motion long before now. Max frowned. But for how long had Dave been on their backs? Two years, as he had said? Dave's account of events did sound plausible, but that didn't mean it was the truth.

He sighed. What had changed Dave's plans about spying on them to actually "bring" them here? They were being chased, but still… seven months seemed like an incredible amount of time to just wait and see, and that was an amusing thought coming from someone who was always accused with just wait and see. Whatever Dave wanted, Max thought, it wasn't something that happened over night, but it stroke Max that Dave had made this decision about bringing them here in a little bit of haste. The thought was contradictory, Max knew, but something had changed the night they had fled from their graduation ceremony. The Special Unit was part of it, of course, but something else had been the trigger to settle this entire thing in motion, because if the Special Unit had been all Dave's trouble, Dave would have approached them a hell lot earlier with nothing remotely as elaborated with what Dave had done now.

Whatever was on Dave's mind, Max thought again, had to be more than big. He had planned their hiding so carefully, from their disappearance to the little details of their daily lives. From making no one on this place give them a second glance to arranging their stories for the people who would work with them… It was way too planned out for someone who just wanted to make them feel safe, and whose only reward would be to study them. But what else was there? Right now Max wasn't exactly feeling safe, so how could he hope to see anything else beyond that?

Well, at least there was a somewhat comforting thought out of this: If they were so big for Dave, at least that ensure they would be protected, if only for the wrong reasons. Max let go a long sigh. As he had said when they had first arrived, this place was a shelter.

"I see you talked yourself out of it," Liz said with a smile, her eyes still sleepy despite the shower she had taken, her bare feet making no sound on the carpeted floor. She was wearing a towel on her head, and a gray sweater with blue pants which made her look so comfortable and plain simple perfect. Her scent filled the room. God, that smell could drive him nuts, but all he did was to smile back. Liz overpowered him with such simple act as to stand in front of him, and he wondered if she was aware of that. How she could melt him with just a smile.

Liz bit her lip and sheepishly smiled. "What?" She asked too aware of Max staring at her.

"You're beautiful, you know that?" Max said, extending an arm for Liz to lay right beside him. Liz's smiled turned into a grin, and she went to him, wet tower and hair now over Max's arm.

"So, what was worrying you so much?" Liz asked, tucking herself below the sheets. "I almost went out of the shower twice when all those feelings came through..."

Max arched his eyebrows, and a mischievous smile crossed his lips. Liz just pouted at him. "You're not getting that easily out of the topic." Max sighed, closing his eyes, savoring the pleasure of having Liz on his arms.

"I was worrying about you. You and all these situations I have gotten you into, including this one." Liz tried to say something, but Max carried on. "It doesn't matter that you chose to be with me, it doesn't matter that all I want in the world is for you to be happy. Being with me will always put you in danger, and you just can't ask me to not worry. Because I will."

Another beep went out before Liz could reply anything. Max turned to look at his G.E.S. and so did Liz. But this time, it was hers the one that was glowing. Moving to get it, Liz disentangled herself from him.

"I got a message from Jake about five minutes before," Max said, watching as Liz picked up the device. "He said we will start at 8."

"Lucky you," Liz said frowning while reading. "This is from Dave," Max tensed. What now? "He says that I should bring a sweater."

"A sweater? Why? Is he thinking to get you out?" Max said, worry in his eyes.

"Well, I would think he would say something about that if that were the case. It's snowing out there…" Liz bit her lip again. "I mean, I would need something more than just a sweater, right? It's probably nothing."

Max looked unconvinced, and for the next forty minutes, he practically became Liz's shadow, whether they were eating breakfast, or she was combing her hair or just making the bed together. He just couldn't unglue his eyes from her. What was in store for his wife once she went up that elevator? Gosh, how could he even allow her to go up there? From all the times he had wanted to warn her, all the times he had run because he _had_ to tell her, now that he was with her, there was nothing he could do. All there was left once he saw her as the elevator doors closed was to trust they had made the right choice in trusting this man, and by his life, if Dave did as much as said something wrong to her, Max wouldn't have mercy with him.

_TBC.._

Author's note: The bit about how Liz reacted to Max healing her, and how the world was just "wrong" was inspired in part by Liz's reaction from the Roswell High Book #1, The Outsider.

The idea of how Max and Kyle actually got to finish their History assignment came to me after reading those assignments completed on the internet, which were hilarious. If you haven't read those, I can send them to you :)


	16. Cracks

I want to give a **special THANKS!** to **RoswieGoof** who took the time to edit this and the upcoming chapters! Don't worry girl! I won't go running away from you, no matter how many correction you send! (and somehow I bet you are correcting this last paragraph as well 8) )

Thanks to all of you who have left a review and those who come back to read :D For those of you who actually want the 285 South assignments, you may want to send me an e-mail to acuamisha at yahoo dot com (I'm not sure if allows addresses and e-mails sooo), so I can have your e-mail address as well and send those there.

Thanks again for all the support! And now, on to Liz's interview :)

* * *

**XVI**

**Cracks**

Liz arrived just in time. She liked being punctual –it showed respect for the other person, regardless of whoever that other person was- and despite the apprehension she felt about this coming… _appointment_, she still had done everything to be right on time.

She had found the door slightly open –she had guessed it was like that so she would see where the door was- and had stood two feet away from it for a whole minute. Take a deep breath and just get in, she had coached herself. Besides, if Michael had left this place in one piece, sure enough it couldn't be that bad, right?

She desperately hoped the answer was "right".

So she walked the short distance and pushed the door open all the way. She had had a mental picture of Dave's office, but neither Kyle nor Michael had elaborated too much on the details. Liz noticed those details only because Dave was standing, watching something out the window with his back to her.

Dave's office was carpeted in a deep blue-greenish color. His dark desk was the size of a dining room table for eight, and it looked as if it were made of a very heavy wood. It was covered with a thick dark glass as well, which reflected the white light coming from the ceiling's only large light bulb.

His famous puzzle was taking form on the bottom part of it, obviously the place where Dave had been working on it. But now she understood why Dave was able to take piece after piece and place them so fast, as both Michael and Kyle had said. It was because the pieces were already separated into colors and similar textures. He didn't have to lose time in searching and searching all the sky pieces from the sand pieces and the plant ones. They were scattered in various tiny hills inside the already assembled edge.

Liz could see too that the puzzle was an oasis just about to be engulfed by a desert storm, the dust cloud looking every bit as menacing as if it were alive, a real dust monster taking his lunch. The curious thing was that when Kyle had told them it was a puzzle about a desert storm, she had assumed it was a rock desert, like the one she had lived in her entire life. But it wasn't. It was the Sahara type of desert, dune after dune.

She glanced to her right where the numbers were on the wall, and as Kyle did before her, she thought it odd, but nothing remotely stirred inside her like it had with Michael.

Dave turned to look at her, making Liz realize he was wearing a sweater too. A gray, wool handmade sweater that made his hazel eyes look more clear, almost honey-like. How many secrets did those eyes conceal? Liz could only imagine, but she had to give credit to the man for the fact that, under different circumstances, Liz would never guess this man was capable of making six kids disappear into the night without anyone –including said kids- knowing it.

"Want some hot chocolate?" Dave said, placing his own mug on the table, the hot chocolate still steaming. As Liz entered the room before answering, she did notice the room's temperature was colder in here than in any other place in the complex. And the explanation to this was just in plain sight.

The window that was behind Dave was actually divided in 2 by 2 foot squares separated by thin, black, metal lines, and the last square at the bottom left was shattered in a million pieces to the exact point it was still holding on but a simple sneeze would definitely break it apart.

Following her gaze, Dave looked behind him and smiled. Then, turning to look at her, his smile still in place, he said by way of a joke: "Never piss off Michael." Liz's eyebrows shot skyward, her eyes round too, almost in a perfect imitation of Maria's gesture of disbelief.

"Michael was just making a point I'd better not forget," Dave said calmly, "but he certainly screwed up my cozy environment in here." Dave walked to his right –Liz's left- toward the cupboard. "And I won't order it repaired until your husband has been here, because I get the feeling I'll end up with more than just one glass shattered if I don't watch my mouth these next days. So, hot chocolate?"

Liz's eyes hadn't unglued themselves from him until his last comment about the window not being in one piece after Max had been here. Her eyes then turned to the shattered glass at the bottom. What had Dave said to Michael? And why had Michael chosen not to tell them that?

Her eyes finally moved from that particular spot and turned to Dave, who was patiently waiting for her answer about whether she wanted hot chocolate or not. How different from the Dave of her dreams, tapping and tapping his pencil on the counter.

"No, thank you," Liz finally managed to say, regaining her composure. So, Dave wanted to talk, then they would talk, but she wasn't planning on saying one more word than necessary. She sat on the chair in front of her –a black, leathered chair with a high back. It was very comfortable too. Dave's chair was exactly like hers.

"Okay," Dave said, taking a small bag of marshmallows from the cupboard. "Maybe later," he added, shrugging a little. He deliberately took his time to get to the desk, open the bag and place a handful of marshmallows inside his mug, all the time gazing at what he was doing and at her. He's waiting for me to talk, Liz thought, trying very hard to not bite her lower lip. Well, then you are in for a long wait.

As casually as he had picked up the marshmallows, Dave slid his left hand into his left pocket and took something out of it, something small and transparent from what Liz could see. He put it on the desk and pushed it so the object would slide in a straight line to her, without touching a single piece of the puzzle on the desk. She followed it with her gaze during the short distance –around 7 feet- and it stopped right in front of her. Liz's eyes widened as she realized what it was.

"You have the key," she said, almost above a whisper, her mind racing with images of the "diamond" she and Max had stolen. On that same second she also thought of the fact that if Dave had it, how much did this man know and what did it mean and the things—

"That's what it is?" Dave asked, taking his seat, stirring marshmallows into his hot chocolate with a silver spoon, as calm as he always seemed to be. "We had no idea why the heck you guys wanted it so badly… Certainly you weren't after the diamond itself."

"You didn't know—but—why do you have it then?" Liz asked astonished. Was Dave telling the truth about not knowing the diamond was a key, or was he just fooling around?

"No. I didn't know the _original _was a key. This is your replica…" Dave said, pausing to take a sip, Liz's eyes never leaving the diamond which wasn't _the _diamond. "Let me explain," Dave said when he saw her confused look. "The first time I saw you, Liz, it was at a party. Gosh, I had to sneak away from Ray's watching eyes to get to Las Cruces on time. I should add that I went to there against my own wishes and words about being that close to you. But I wanted to see you and Max in person. Not up close, but from afar. I just… well, I just had to know why you were going to… _assist_ at a diamond exhibition."

"You were there?" Liz asked, frowning, her mind racing through her memory. Had she seen Dave that night?

"As far away from you as I could get, but yes, I was there... I had to arrange a lot of things for _you_ to be there as well. Didn't you ever wonder why you weren't stopped at the exit when you were leaving? Or why you could get that job so easily?"

Liz couldn't speak for ten seconds; but finally she managed to look him straight in the eye. "It was all you? You arranged it?"

"Well, yeah, you got the better of my curiosity. I had to see what you were up to," Dave said, smiling a little, his eyes pinned on the marshmallows circling in his mug. "Want to hear a funny story? Delores Browning is one of the most… how to say it… umm… _arrogant_ women I have ever met, and that's saying a lot. So when you and Max applied to work at her exhibition with all her diamonds, I had to make up this elaborate story about this girl who I wanted to impress. 'You can expect anything to happen, Delores', I told her, 'because I want to impress her so badly'. She thought I was talking about her, of course. I, on the other hand, didn't know what to expect from you. Thank you for not disappointing me, though." Dave ended, gesturing with his mug as if he were going to make a toast, nodding a little.

Liz lowered her eyes to the desk, to no point in particular, remembering that exhilarating night a year and a half ago. They had planned every step, every word she was going to say. Max had come up with the idea, Liz had played along. But even when she was actually insulting "the" Delores Browning, Liz couldn't believe herself. She was actually deceiving someone, looking so crazy, yelling and throwing Chapman to this woman… But somehow, it had been all because Dave had allowed it, hadn't it? Their getting the job, being allowed to leave so soon, without too many questions… This time, Liz did bite her lower lip.

"Oh, come on," Dave said leaning over his desk. "It was brilliant! For one moment there you truly fooled me, and I knew a lot more than anyone in that room." Liz looked at him, her mind not quite clear, memories of that night, that entire scene still playing in her mind.

"And then Max caught in mid-air a diamond that couldn't break to begin with. That's what made me curious. Of course, Mrs. Browning was fuming so bad you wouldn't believe what she charged me for the… I guess 'fake' diamond you kids left behind."

"You bought it," Liz said, not asking, there was no point in that. The diamond was right in front of her.

"Of course I did. I wasn't surprised when it was confirmed that the 'diamond' wasn't a real diamond… But until today I had no idea why it was so important you would take such risks in stealing it," Dave said, raising an eyebrow as a matter of emphasizing his last statement. "So, what does it open?"

Liz blinked, Dave's eyes pinned on hers. "Well, you said it's a key. A key to what?" Dave asked anxiously, like a kid waiting for a gift. And this Dave did look a lot like the one she had dreamed of, ready to shred anything that was placed in his hands, napkins or otherwise. And yet, she remained silent. She had barely said two complete sentences since she had gotten here and Dave already knew about the key. No, she was not going to talk further. Maybe she could just sit in silence for the next four hours or so… Darn it! Why couldn't she just break a glass and be over with it?

Dave seemed to understand this and tried to conceal his disappointment as well as he could. Sighing, he let go of his excitement. "You know, that wasn't the only time you kids didn't plan out every detail as you should have."

Liz frowned. "What do you mean?" she asked, her mind racing again. What now? Where and when else?

"Do you remember your hearing, Liz?"

"You were also in the court room in Utah?" Liz asked again. In how many places had this man actually been?

"No, of course not," Dave said smiling. "But if you remember correctly, well, they found hair follicles…" it seemed to Liz that frowning was becoming a habit in this room because she just couldn't stop doing it. For the tenth time that morning she frowned again. Where was Dave going with this? She remembered Max's father saying something about DNA from hair follicles not being submitted as evidence in Utah, but frankly, it was all very vague in her mind now.

"Do you have any idea what would have happened if Max's DNA had been found in that crime scene?" Dave asked, all serious now, clearly knowing Liz had not thought about that at all. None of them had. She remembered Phillip Evans saying that the only evidence there was consisted of "strands of hair"… But in the end it had been her voice and height that had made the judge rule against her. As the memory of that disastrous day became clearer in her mind, she remembered that strands of hair weren't allowed as evidence.

"You, or more likely, Max, are so lucky the state of Utah didn't allow DNA from hair follicles as evidence in your particular case or he would still be in custody right now, and not exactly the police kind of custody." Placing both his hands around his mug, which was now over his desk, he continued, "I learned a _lot_ of Utah's law system with you two, but the fact remained that Max's DNA was bagged somewhere in the criminal investigation section, bagged for further procedure if there needed to be one more look at it. Frankly, they weren't going to be accepted anyway, of course, but the threat still remained…"

"Remained…" Liz said almost above a whisper, fearing for something that hadn't happened, and yet, she couldn't shake the thought of… _custody_.

"Remained, yeah. It was all taken care of as soon as it was possible. You kids have placed yourselves in so many dangers in such a short time, it was almost as if you wanted to be in danger… I liked it better when your biggest crime was leaving for Vegas…"

Liz swallowed hard. How long—how many times had he— What was she supposed to say now? "Thank you"?

"Is there something you don't know?" She briefly closed her eyes, and embrace herself for God knew what.

"Plenty," Dave said. "Like what that key opens, for instance… Or the fact that it is a key to begin with… Or why you didn't tell anyone about Max… Or why you married him despite everything that commitment requires. I don't know a million things, Liz. And I want to know. I want to know about the woman who married someone that, according to modern science, shouldn't be here. I want to know about you, the girl who made a boy from another planet fall in love with her so badly he risked everything he had to risk."

Despite herself, Liz blushed. She didn't want to, indeed, but Dave's words were true. She had asked Max why he had fallen in love with her more than once, and all Max had done was shrug and say _I could tell you a million reasons and more, but the fact is that it was you, all of you._ There just aren't rules for love, Liz silently thought. Dave just looked at her, almost as if he were amused by watching her think. But for an instant there Liz saw him glancing at his puzzle, almost as if he were mentally putting pieces together. Liz wondered if he was grasping his mug so tight because he couldn't actually reach the pieces with his hand.

"You want to keep putting pieces together, don't you?" Liz asked with a side smile, almost with pride. After all, she _had _caught him.

Busted, Dave noticed Liz watching him a second too late. It was his turn to blush, and Liz was surprised by that. After all, as far as she knew, blushing wasn't something a person could fake.

Smiling, and a little bit embarrassed, Dave stood up, taking his mug with him, and slowly turned around, standing in front of the window. "It's easier with boys to show indifference and just keep putting it all together," Dave said, turning his head to look at her and gesturing to join him, "they are more comfortable with it. But women! Ah, women would feel outraged if they don't have your complete attention. So, yes, I'm itching to put pieces together, but I know better."

Unsure of what to do, Liz finally stood up and cautiously walked to stand beside him. Every step she walked it felt more and more as if she were entering some forbidden place, or more likely, a lion's den. "Besides," Dave continued, now looking out the window, "there are other things that capture my mind just as badly as puzzles."

It was snowing out there, Liz could see now that she was standing in front of the window herself, feeling a slight air current coming from her left, the place where –apparently- Michael had shattered the glass. But out there, where everything was white snow over white snow, everything seemed so… peaceful. No one was walking around, so the snow was untouched, and snowflake after snowflake passed in front of her on the other side of the window, eerily illuminated by a bluish light somewhere above the window outside. It seemed to Liz that it had been ages since she had just stared at snow falling like that with no hurry.

"Why have you been after us all this time?" Liz suddenly asked, with such calmness that if she had said "how beautiful the snow looks" it would have sounded exactly the same. But Liz had to know. What were they to him? A project? A hobby? For all the things he kept saying there just didn't seem to be a consistent pattern here. First, he didn't want to be seen with them, but now he's deciding what to do with them? What had changed his mind?

"Well," Dave said, his eyes not leaving the outside world, "Why not?"

Liz stared at him. What was with Dave that he took this entire situation so lightly? He had assured them he had never been in Roswell, but yet he had wanted to see them so he had done so _outside_ of Roswell. He had, indeed, stayed out of her hometown almost as if it were forbidden for him to be there.

"Why didn't you just contact us?" Liz asked getting into her logic, knowing it was going to be the only way to get some answers of her own. What Liz didn't know was that Dave was so used to playing against logic it was practically second nature to him. After all, logic had a pattern, and everything Dave had done from the first moment he could remember was search for patterns and –as he had been taught later on- to crash them.

"Honestly? I didn't know how. As I told Kyle, I didn't want to… well, mess with your lives. And by the time I finally made up my mind, I was too late. You were no longer in Roswell. It became incredibly complicated to approach you then. Not that it was easy to begin with, mind you." Dave said, glancing at her before sipping his hot chocolate.

"So you just waited seven months to put on that show? You know, with the rooms and everything?" Liz said, suddenly feeling cold and somehow unprotected standing beside this man, this stranger. There was something just downright unsettling about talking to a man who had their lives hanging on a string.

"Seven months was never the plan," Dave said, though Liz didn't know if he had said it thoughtfully, seriously, or both.

"So you had a plan all that time?"

"A plan that you kids kept trashing, if I might add. But in the long run, I guess it had its benefits. You gave me more than enough time to make corrections and settle other things down here in the complex."

"Wait a second," Liz said, raising one of her eyebrows, her previous helpless feeling fading away. Now she was trying to catch the slightest crack in Dave's statements. "What do you mean we 'kept trashing your plans'?"

----------------------------------------------------------------

There were, indeed, other things that captured his mind as badly as puzzles, and Liz Parker Evans was one of those.

Dave turned to look at her, a little bit amused, a little bit surprised, but completely proud. He had been giving her cracks throughout all his statements just to see if she would catch them, but she was scared and confused, so her mind hadn't been clear, until now.

"You were supposed to be brought here six weeks ago, but a snow storm made that impossible," Dave told her, leaning on the desk, his eyes lost outside the window. God, he loved to see snow falling so badly. "And then you kept moving, separating. You were hard to locate, and it was practically impossible to predict your next move." Dave said, still not looking at her.

Liz leaned over the desk as well, her eyes turning to the falling snow. He couldn't know that Liz was thinking the reason it had been "practically impossible to predict" their future goings was because Kyle kept flipping a coin in the air to decide their next move. Completely random… completely chaotic for anyone who had been searching for a pattern on their movements. Of course, more than once, Maria, Isabel and herself had punched him hard for guiding them into The-Middle-Of-Nowhere Town.

"And the FBI was always getting closer to you…" Dave said, getting more serious now. He had to make her see –make _them_ see- how much danger their lives had been in. Not only because it would make them feel safer down here, making them feel his offer was their best decision, but because once they got out there again, it wouldn't be much different. They had to see their past mistakes in order to not repeat them.

"You really didn't know about the FBI Special Unit until later on?" Liz asked, her eyes not seeing the snow, just looking outside, fearful for one of the worst threats to her life and everyone's lives in her group.

"I really didn't know," Dave sincerely answered. Kyle, Michael and now her had all asked him why he hadn't come to them sooner, before the Army, before everything had gone to hell, and that meant they weren't buying the fact that he hadn't known what to do with them back then. That little explanation wasn't the truth, but he just wasn't going to change his version now. However, the other thing this "revelation" told him was that they perceive him, in some twisted way, as some sort of guardian. A protector. And he was protecting them, of course, protecting them from the outside world and all its dangers, but… in the long term, it wasn't going to be protection he would give them.

"Are you really going to dissipate them? Take them off our backs?" Liz asked, not even glancing at him, her eyes still watching the outside world as a bird in a cage watches its freedom so close and yet so far.

"I'm sure going to try," Dave said, knowing as well as Liz did that his words were meaningless. Whether he dissipated them or not would be something they would know with time. Right now, they were just empty words. But, even if there was no way he could really prove it to Liz, Dave hoped that she believed him because he _was_ dissipating them, just very slowly. Just in the only way he had been able to do so.

"And you are not going to hurt him?" Liz asked, this time turning to look at him straight in the eye, some inner struggle deciding if she could believe his answer or not.

"I will never hurt any of you, as long as you don't hurt any of mine. That was the deal." Dave said, as calmly and confidently as he could so Liz would somehow feel that this was the truth. Because as far as he was concerned, it _was_ the truth. For all the right or wrong reasons, he just couldn't afford that anyone hurt them. And he was expecting that _they_ couldn't afford to hurt him neither. Liz nodded, very slowly at first, but then with more confidence, as if she were deciding that she could trust him, even if just a little.

"You know how everyone feels they're alone?" Liz said, turning to look at the window again. Dave frowned. Where was Mrs. Evans going? Liz seemed to sense this because, turning with a shy smile, she said, "You said you wanted to know why I kept Max's secret and why I married him despite everything the commitment requires, so I'm trying to explain it to you."

Dave smiled, and taking another sip from his hot chocolate, he nodded in understanding.

"Well," Liz said, her gaze returning to the outside world, her mind going to a time and place invisible for him. "When I first found out I wasn't dead and that Max had saved me because of what he is, I was mesmerized… but then I started doubting. I started questioning why Max had risked everything… And Max must have sensed that all my questions would inevitably lead to the wrong conclusions, because he came to me to explain things. Despite the fact that Michael had wanted to leave so badly, Max stayed. He truly believed that I would understand if he told me. If he let me see that it was still him…"

Liz paused for a second, smiling at some inner memory, her eyes bright with a new light that hadn't been there when she had entered that room less than ten minutes before. In silence, Dave wondered what inner strength drove this young girl that had not run away when she had found out, beyond a doubt, that aliens did live among them.

"He made a connection, and I saw… I _felt_ everything he was letting me see, and I knew I wasn't alone. For the first time in my life, I knew what someone else was capable of feeling. How someone else truly viewed me." Liz stopped, turning to look at him for a moment, trying to make her point come across. "It all really started with that connection… and Max became this incredible person, this exciting person that was making my life so much more. I wasn't a small town girl anymore. My life was different because he was different," Liz reflected, like it was the first time that she was giving it a thought, though in reality it was only the first time she was saying it out loud.

"So," Dave said, looking at her as she returned her view to the window, "the 'exciting' never stopped?"

Liz shook her head "no" slightly and slowly. "It did. Eventually it wore off… and I was with Kyle, and then I wasn't, and there was all this… stuff happening… And then the excitement was over and there was just Max," Liz said, frowning a little, smiling a little, as if the thought were amusing. And for Dave, it was. "He wasn't any different than what he had always been before he healed me. He sort of lost that mysterious aura after a while. I mean, he lost it once I realized it really was still him: My lab partner." Liz let go a small, mischievous smile. "My lab partner that had let me see his soul," she corrected, "who didn't have a clue I knew he had loved me since the third grade."

Dave had been sipping his hot chocolate until that point. He almost choked himself. "That's a long time," he managed to get out, trying not to stop Liz in her account of events.

"So," Liz said, turning once more to look at him, "that's when I really fell in love with Max. Once I got past the shock and the excitement. That was when I started to know him for who he was, not for what he was, or what he had risked, or what he could do."

"It never bothered you then… that he was different? That he was being chased? That ultimately you would give up a lot to be with him? I mean… why is it worth that?" Dave calmly asked her. He knew from Michael and Kyle that Max and Liz hadn't had it easy. He knew from school gossip that there had been a lot of ups and downs between those two. So, why had Liz stuck with Max? Why was she still sticking with him?

"'If it isn't complicated, he probably isn't your soul-mate'," Liz whispered with the slightest of smiles, clearly quoting someone else. Then her manner became serious. "Once the excitement wore off, other things became obvious too," Liz said, looking at some point below the windows. "The scary part… That one day someone could come and take Max away. Could come and take them away." Liz crossed her arms over her chest in a protective way. "He was just Max but… circumstances were far from normal. And it all was just so… _unfair_, for all of them. They were born into something that they just couldn't escape…" She sighed, letting her frustration go.

"It sounds like a good reason to not fall in love with one of them," Dave said, arching one eyebrow, sipping his hot chocolate again. Liz turned to look at him, her eyes lost in memories of not so long ago.

"I won't lie to you," Liz said, looking straight at him, "it's not easy. It never has been. His alien side… his alien past… it's not something he could or can get rid of." She gave a little sigh, and turned her eyes to the window again. "But through all it implied, all the good and all the bad…and the scary and the exciting… Through all of it, all the kisses and all the hurt… at some point I just realized that you can't take love in black and white, in right and wrong… not without all these shades in between. At one point I just had to ask myself if Max was what I really wanted, despite the implications… If I could see a future with him. If I wasn't losing myself on something that wasn't really there."

"Did it take you long to answer yourself?" Dave asked, intrigued. It wasn't a fairy-tale kind of love, as some could imagine when they saw how Max and Liz gravitated toward each other. It was the kind of love that had been fought through. The kind that had a better chance to succeed, he guessed.

"I took my time," she sincerely answered him. "I wanted to be sure that when I woke up someday in the future, I wouldn't regret my decision. And in the end, I chose to be with him, wherever it leads me. I chose to fall in love with him all over again because without him, there's no future I want. And I have never stopped since that moment, falling in love. That's why it was, and still is all worth it, all of it. Because I love him... And because he loves me back."

It sounded so simple and yet so complicated, Dave absently thought. How one's dreams had to change, or wait, in order to fulfill that one and only wish: That you would be with this one person who would make it all worth while.

"Love," Dave said softly, his mug resting in his hand on his lap, his eyes looking out the window just like Liz's, "the biggest leap of faith. The purest form of trust. And he trusts you," Dave stated, "that's a powerful reason to want to be with anyone. And trust like that isn't easy to earn, or easy to keep."

Liz stopped staring out the window and, lifting her eyes to see him, she tilted her head a little, frowning. "Do you trust in anyone?" she boldly asked, taking Dave aback. He arched his eyebrows, almost offended.

"I mean," Liz said, studying his face, "Can a man like you trust in anyone?"

Dave turned to look out the window, his own memories of countless times with Jake coming to his mind. Liz was partially right, a man like him couldn't afford to trust in the wrong people, but no one could go on living his entire life without trusting someone at one point or another. If not for anything else, it just wasn't practical.

"I trust in Jake," he simply said, without anymore explanation. He had wanted Liz to ask one or two questions related to his motives because it amused him to divert people, drive them to the wrong conclusions, but now they were getting too personal for him to like. Still, he knew he couldn't just leave it like that. "I don't have the benefit of a connection, but I think he trusts in me back."

"Is that why he's the one in charge of the Lab? Why you sent Max, Michael and Isabel to him? Because you trust him?" Liz asked, a girl so used to asking questions it was second nature to her; Dave liked that. He liked that of anyone, because there are no answers if there are no questions. Dave smiled at her mischievously.

"I don't know if this connection you have with Max allows you to know him as well I do Jake after 32 years of friendship, but have you ever felt what Max wants the most in the world?"

"What do you mean?" Liz said, hugging herself, as if she was suddenly cold.

"What Jake wants the most in the world is to be a common, simple human being," Dave said, briefly closing his eyes, sighing slightly, almost exasperated. "He wonders half of the time what it would be like to have a desk job, a wife, two kids and a white house in the suburbs. From the first moment he was told he was a genius he hated the word. Hated what that made him: An outsider. He still hates what he is, even if now he's pretty much resigned to the fact that what he comprehends hardly anyone else does."

Jake did ask him from time to time how he could deal with the fact that the patterns he saw on everything were hidden to anyone else, because frankly, Jake was tired of having to explain to others things so clear to himself. Dave always shrugged. He just didn't care if others could see or not what he was seeing. It was enough for him to know the pattern was there. To hell with everyone else.

"So you placed Jake with them because he pretty much feels what Max, Isabel and Michael feel," Liz said, concluding Dave's last statement, "That they are all outsiders on this world."

"In part, but Jake is a genius on what he does best, and that's knowing every detail of the human body. Though I gotta tell you Liz, your husband and Co. are giving him the worst of times."

Oh, his best friend in the entire world hadn't exactly been complaining about _that_, but Dave knew Jake's incredible patience was approaching its limit. Jake had always been able to have the best of human relationships, and the fact that he couldn't reach these kids was killing something inside of him.

Liz, however, gave him a small, knowing smile. It was Dave's turned to frown.

"They're not doing it on purpose, are they?" Dave asked her, not sure if he wanted to know he had placed Jake in an impossible situation.

"No!" Liz immediately said, "it's just… it's just that this whole thing… I mean, you should have expected it," Liz said, looking at him almost in an accusatory way, her voice starting to raise a little. "You kidnapped us, brought us into this underground prison, practically forced us to accept your offer, and now you're telling me you don't understand why they're 'giving Jake a hard time'?"

It was a good thing Liz didn't have powers, Dave thought, or another of his very expensive 2 by 2 feet windows would have been shattered just about now. Liz might look innocent and sweet, but that girl knew how to stand her ground every bit as well as Michael did.

On her part, Liz was also thankful her new powers had been taken away by her husband, or right now she would have given concrete proof of what being brought back from the dead by an alien could do to you.

"Wow, wow, wow," Dave said, placing his mug on his desk, "All I'm saying is that Jake has great people skills, so I'm just surprised he hasn't managed to get along with them. But though I am sorry you kids don't feel safe in here, I don't regret anything I have done to bring you to this 'underground prison'. You were sitting ducks out there, and you know that Liz. You all do or you wouldn't have accepted my offer in the first place. I didn't force you to accept, I just gave you a real experience of what was waiting for you out there."

Now, that had come out a lot harsher than he had wanted, but if that was going to be the only way these kids were going to "get it", well, then he would just get use to yelling at them.

Liz turned to look at the floor, and above a whisper she said: "It's just too good to be true that someone is selflessly helping us."

"But I'm not selflessly helping you," Dave corrected her, Liz turning to see him in a second, "I do expect them to go to the Lab and shed some light on how their powers work."

"You are going to an awful lot of troubles just to know that…" Liz pointed out, as serious as Dave was now. Another point for you, Dave thought, you found another crack.

"What do you suggest, then? That I kidnap you and threat Max into cooperating or else?" Dave answered back, Liz's eyes going round. "You know, I do want Jake to… _be_ in one piece once you decide to leave, and that means making sure neither Max, Michael nor Isabel have a reason to want to hurt anyone here. So, as much trouble as it is, I had to make sure that what I offered was of complete interest to you. I care that much about what Jake might find out. Or that he's as safe as I want him to be."

Liz slightly narrowed her eyes, obviously trying to find the crack on that last statement. Well Liz, you might find the cracks, but you'll never see underneath them, Dave thought, taking his mug again, the hot chocolate inside still steaming a little. And he was right, because in the years to come Liz would see the cracks, but it wouldn't be until eight years later that she –and all of them- would get to see "underneath" them.

----------------------------------------------------------------

Max was anxious. He hadn't turned the page of the book he had in front of him for more than ten minutes now, his eyes were lost in some point of the cell diagram that was shown there. Michael couldn't blame him though. He didn't even want to imagine how he was going to be on Friday morning when Maria was going to be talking to Dave. Why had Dave chosen her birthday of all days? Maria hadn't said much about that, but Michael was pissed off at Dave for doing that to her. If it went wrong Maria would never remember her birthday as a good thing on all her future celebrations. That was, of course, if there were going to be any _future_ celebrations.

Not that Michael cared all that much about birthdays, to begin with. His own birthday was an arbitrary day picked up by some crazy woman when he had been put under the care of social services. Same for Max and Isabel. And that was why they didn't have the same birthday, as the three of them knew was the truth: They had all emerged from their pods the same day. Granted, it wasn't exactly _a _birth, but it was the closest thing they could come up with.

But what had brought his mind to birthdays had been something that hadn't had much to do with Maria's birthday. It had been Jake. Jake and his murmur about some stupid zodiac thing having to do with Ray. Max, Michael and Isabel had stared at Jake not believing their ears. _NOT again_, had been the two words written all over their faces.

Back when they had been found, they hadn't seen each other because Max and Isabel had already been placed in the system and placed in a home one day before Michael had entered the orphanage. But the three of them had met pretty much the same people in that short time. And that included Ms. Andrade, a Mexican-American woman who spoke very broken English, wore the most astonishing combinations in clothes, and wore every sparkly accessory she could manage. She was also an Astrology freak, claimed to see auras, and read Tea leaves, if Michael remembered correctly.

It had been she who had chosen their birthdays, apparently because of their personalities. It had been she who had given different birthdays to three children who had actually hatched the same day and whose personalities had nothing to do with Zodiac Signs but previous lives… bioengineering and that sort of thing. Usually foster children were given the chance to pick their own birthdays, but since they couldn't speak, and she was so damn convincing, both families in which they had been placed had accepted the suggested dates. Still, the woman had made an impression on them, and not exactly the good kind.

All their lives the three of them had mocked all that Zodiac crap simply because it didn't apply. How could the three of them be so different if they had been born at the same time? Of course, when they had heard the message from home, finally knowing about their previous lives and the reason why they were the way they were, they hadn't really paid any attention at all to what it meant in "Zodiac Signs Land". It was just some stupid superstition people still believe in.

So when Jake had said something about Ray saying some stupid thing because he was a Scorpio, they had stopped looking at their brand new biology books and stared at him. Jake had stared back.

"_What? It's not such a bad idea," Jake had said, referring to what Ray had said earlier._

"_You believe in Zodiac Signs?" Isabel had asked, going directly to the point, ignoring for one second what Ray had suggested for them to start on How to Escape 101._

"_Sure thing," Jake had answered, and pointing at each one of them in turn, he had said, "Pisces, Scorpio, Sagittarius." He had been right. Well, right to their supposed Zodiac Signs according to their given birth dates. The three of them had just blinked. Had he guessed? Or had he read their birth certificates? That had to be it, Michael had reflected in an instant. _

"_Now, before we go into any details about your future sessions," Jake had continued, without saying another word as to why he believed in Zodiac Signs, "your Biology books arrived yesterday night so we are going to put them to good use." _

So now they were reading the introductory chapter, while Jake had excused himself and had left them in the small room where they had been playing car games on Monday. It unnerved Michael to know that hidden cameras were measuring his physical responses, and Max being so damn obviously distracted wasn't helping matters. They were supposed to be seeing some stupid cell diagram, which Michael thought was completely and totally boring. He had seen this stuff in High School, why look at it again?

Isabel was distracted as well, and had faint dark circles under her eyes, a clear give away that she hadn't slept much. She was restless, constantly moving her hand to take away a strand of hair, or she was accommodating herself on the sofa or she was doing another million small movements. Something was eating her up from the inside, but he would ask her later. He was having trouble himself in this place. The couch where he was seated was so damn comfortable that if he didn't watch himself, in less than thirty minutes he would be dozing off. He had barely slept at all, thinking and rethinking everything that had happened yesterday on Dave's office. From the minute he had entered the room to the moment the glass had shattered into a million pieces.

That brought on a smile. Even if Dave hadn't done so much as flinch when the glass had shattered, Michael had made his point, and on this stupid, stupid situation where they were, at least that little… _act_ had made Michael feel like there were things still under his control. That after all, Dave didn't have all that power over them.

Still, Michael didn't fool himself. Dave still held the main cards if not all the cards. Had Dave been scared? Michael wondered for the millionth time that morning. Had Dave truly thought Michael could hurt him? Certainly, he _could,_ Michael reflected, but had Dave anticipated that little, let's say, display of power? You might have me under your thumb, but I can still shatter your precious window… can shatter everything, including you, if I feel like it. It _was_ a childish thought, Michael knew, but it was also the truth.

They had pretty much settled on a mind game: "what I'm telling you, what I'm implying and what I'm just plain refusing to say". It took him a lot of effort to maintain his patience, because sometimes he could sense Dave trying to see how much he could ask about something personal until Michael jut simply changed the subject. But it happened vice versa as well. Michael could start trying to dig a little bit up – _what did you do if you weren't in High School? Who did you want to piss off if not your teachers? –_ and with that damned smile of his, Dave would just go off with something stupid, relating it to the last thing he had wanted to say, and effectively changing the subject. They weren't fooling themselves, they both knew what the other was doing, but by accepting this dance, they both could get away with their own secrets. Or had they? Had he?

But things had escalated when Dave had started to ask him about Maria. Then about Max, and Isabel, and then about Maria. And about Tess, and how they had escaped just the week before, and then about Maria again. What was his interest with the love of his life? Dave had wanted to know why he had finally decided that Maria at his side was the right choice. And Michael hadn't been able to answer him. Not because he didn't know, but because it truly frightened him, right down to the bottom of his soul, now knowing what Dave might do with such information.

And Dave had changed the subject once again, knowing there was no answer for him this time. It freaked Michael out that Dave could so easily read him, that Dave knew so well how to handle these kinds of conversations, knowing when to push and when to let go. It was like Max had said about being a leader with insight: How did one know what to do?

What kind of person was Dave? They had been watched for around two years, that much they knew, since it hadn't been until Max had healed children in Phoenix that Dave had truly found them, but before that? What did Dave do? They also knew Dave was going away after Saturday… but where? What were his projects about, as Ray had told them when they had had dinner together? But most of all, what exactly was Dave trying to discover with these meetings? Through all his accounts of events with the Skins, Dave had remained silent, very focused on Michael's words, clearly intrigued by it, but he hadn't asked anything. It was the same with Laurie and the Gandarium. Sometimes Michael would just stop and Dave would look up from his puzzle, questioning with his eyes as to why he had stopped.

All alien events were monologues for Michael. But when he started to talk something relationship wise, the questions would begin. Endless and relentless they seemed, and Michael had to keep tabs on what he was supposed to say and what he wasn't. Dave was intrigued about them and their relationships, that was clear, but why? Were they some sort of soap opera that Dave had been following for the past twenty-four months? The only good thing about that was, every now and then, Dave made references to his own life in order to make some relation or to settle the base of yet another question. It was for those glances into this man's life that Michael had kept talking.

Carelessly, not really paying attention, Michael turned the page he was pretending to read, setting his eyes on some stupid diagram related to something called _Action Potentials. _Something to do with neurons, but that was all he knew as his thoughts returned to his own amusements, efficiently ignoring the book he had in front of him. Though he wasn't exactly ignoring this place all that much.

At least they weren't playing car games, thank God. When they had arrived early Jake had shown him the white screen and then had changed it so Michael could see what Max and Isabel had seen the day before: They were being watched. All around the room there were sensors watching him. He hadn't said anything to Jake about what he thought, much less about how that absolute proof of the fact they were being measured made him feel an unexplainable anger and at the same time an incredible curiosity. He wasn't a science geek, but it intrigued him to know how he was affecting things and to let others know what he could do. Because after all, since Michael had always embraced his alien side as the only way of salvation, his powers had made him, well, proud. They were the absolute and undeniable thing that confirmed he was not part of the human race.

It was a realization that had startled him the very second he had thought it, but it was also true. It was only ironic that he had been so bad at it in the beginning when he could barely summon his powers, let alone control them. He had envied Max –and Isabel- for the seemingly effortless way they managed the little tricks of manipulating molecules. Michael guessed the truth was that he himself had been afraid of his own alien side. He was so afraid of being discovered and taken away. And every time he had been using his powers a little fear would increase inside of him: What if he was being watched?

Well, the answer had been given when the white screen had come to life showing him the blues and whites and electric light blues around him, all three of them, while Jake's own blues had looked dull and lifeless. Even Jake had whistled and turning to look at them, he had playfully said: _"Well, aren't you charged today."_ He had turned the screen off, something on his mind. Jake could never conceal it when he was trying to make a decision, it was as if there was a battle going on in his head. It only lasted two seconds, but Michael had seen it. Once the battle was gone from his eyes, it had been then when Jake had started to talk about what he and Ray had talked earlier.

Now they were alone on this room waiting for him to come back. What did Jake have to do with all of this? How much did he actually know? And why, for crying out loud, did it always seem as if Jake himself was out of the loop? And Jake knew this, knew that other things, bigger things, were happening between Dave and them, and yet he had just stayed in the background, or… something… If Jake's only purpose was to fulfill their part of the deal, to discover how their powers worked, what did it mean? Were Jake and Dave really as closed friends as they had been told? And if so, why risk his best friend into this without telling him the truth?

At his side, Max finally gave signs of life if only to lift his right hand to rub his tired eyes. Gees, by the look of it, none of them had actually slept much the night before. Michael noticed that Max's left hand was still holding the book in front of him, holding it so hard that his knuckles were getting white. Max was so not there, his mind lost in some place where he could feel Liz's emotions as well as if they were his. Michael turned worried eyes to Isabel, but there was not much help in there. Isabel's eyes were lost in the book as well, but they weren't moving. She was staring, just as Max had been doing, at the page she had in front of her. Obviously, her thoughts were somewhere else too. What was worrying Isabel so much? Oh, the list was pretty long on that department, but still… Isabel was the type of person who could easily conceal her emotions, and so far, she had settled her mind on acting as normal as one could. She was determined to deceit their captors. Well, apparently not right this moment.

Max returned to his previous posture, Isabel kept doing a million restless movements. Michael's thoughts refused to return to yesterday. Damn, even a little music in this place could distract him a little. They weren't talking just for the simple fact that they were being recorded. So, whatever was concerning them, it sure couldn't be discussed here.

What was that place, the place beyond the door to his left? The white, glass looking door that connected this room to the real Lab? Michael himself rubbed his eyes. Part of him was also getting Maria's feelings from the Gym. Sometimes he could feel her desperation and boredom at the long hours that laid before her till their meeting point. From time to time he would get to feel her laughing, probably at something Kyle had said, and those few moments felt so good to him. He would have to thank Kyle at some point for making her laugh, for making her forget for a second that the world sucked. Sometimes, too, he would let Maria feel him back so she would know he was okay, and the warm feeling of her thanks would fill him. God, Maria felt so good, he could understand why Max just simply didn't "disconnect". But that level of commitment… was he ready to let Maria feel him, through goods and wrongs, through happiness and sorrow?

No.

And Dave had asked him that, not in so many words, and not with such tactlessness, but sure, he had asked it. You stayed on Earth because there was no way back? Are you sure _home _is out there? What does _home_ mean to you, anyway? Is "home where the heart is"? Well, maybe Dave _had_ used a lot of words, after all. But it was as if Dave had been measuring him, measuring the way he loved Maria, if that was even possible. More likely, Dave wondered what Maria meant to him. But Dave knew, Michael was sure of it, that Maria meant _home_ to him. He was just proving his point, almost as if pointing out that he could use Maria against him if he wanted to. And that had made Michael go cold with fury, finally turning away from Dave's piercing hazel eyes, moving his own eyes towards the window behind the man who seemed to have all the answers.

"_If you hurt her," Michael had said, his eyes locked on the window, his voice cold and almost emotionless, "you'll wish you had never found out about Max, about me." The window had shattered then, Michael containing the tiny little pieces inside the frame. He wanted the glass shattered, true, but he also wanted it to remain, so when Dave finally turned around and looked at it, he would see how many tiny fragments Michael's power could shatter him. _

_Dave had only nodded in understanding. He didn't say a word for almost two minutes, both men locked in their own thoughts. Finally, Dave had spoken again. Calmly, calculated, almost soothing, he had told Michael that he knew Maria's birthday was coming. "I have an idea for her gift. You might find it useful." Ten minutes later, Michael had been walking down the corridors of this underground fortress to concreting Dave's idea of Maria's gift. _

He should have blown out his puzzle, Michael thought as he was turning the page again, he smiled to himself at the sole idea of Dave's face as the tiny pieces went flying away. He should have thought about that when he had been up there… As the next page came into view, his eyes caught on the bolded words _Neurotransmitters and Receptors._ Now, _this_ was getting interesting. Quickly scanning the paragraph, he found himself lost with the terms of _acetylcholine _and _noradrenaline. _What were these things? He was turning back the page to see where this all began, and he had just found the title –_Synaptic Transmission- _when a loud sound had startled him so bad he had almost ripped the page out of the book.

A second later, the enigmatic white right door had been shattered. Shattered as Dave's window had been shattered, but this time around Michael had nothing to do with it. The sound had come from the white screen in front of them, some presentation being played there, but the energy that had cracked the white door had come from Max. His best friend was staring at the white door just as perplexed as Isabel and Michael were staring at him. It was as if Max had been coming out of a dream or something, realizing for the first time how tight he had been. He had been so out of it that when the sound had startled all of them, his energy had gone out of control. For Pete's sake, when had Max ever lost his control over his powers? And being drunk didn't count. That answer was easy: Never.

"Are you all right?" Isabel asked him, concerned. Max was still staring at the thousands of lines that now were through the entire door. "Max?" Isabel pressed.

"Yeah… I just…" Max said, finally focusing on her, but his mind still obviously trying to figure out what had happened here.

"Lost it?" Michael elaborated. How odd to say that to Max. Max turned to look at him now, more alert than he had been in the past fifteen minutes, about to say something when Jake entered the room. Gosh, the look of guilt on their three faces couldn't have been more obvious even if they had wanted it to be. Which was ridiculous, because Isabel and himself hadn't had anything to do with the door being shattered. And besides, it was Jake who had startled them, hadn't he? Who else could have made whatever was being played on the screen appear?

Pressing the remote he was holding with his right hand, Jake made the screen go white and soundless again; briefly closing his eyes, he heavily sighed.

"Get out," he simply said, not with anger, not with resentment. Just a simple statement of what they should do right this moment. And though there wasn't fury in his tone, there was an absolute undertone that was saying "I'm not asking you, I'm _telling _you what to do". And yet, the three of them remained motionless.

"Come on, get out," Jake said again, this time urging them, almost as if losing his patience. Isabel was about to say something when Jake cut her off. "I don't care if you go to the corridor outside or if you go to China right now. I just don't want any of you here."

They still didn't move. Now it was anger that was in Jake's voice. "You are tense as stones, you didn't sleep at all, your concentration is non existent, and something as ridiculous as a loud sound makes you go breaking things? God, I could kill Dave right now!" Michael frowned. So this anger wasn't directed at them? Looking at each one of them in turn, Jake continued: "You won't come back 'til Dave has finally left this place and you kids can actually concentrate on what the hell you're doing down here to begin with. I'm just through with trying to reach you when your minds are simply not around here to be reached. So I'll see you on Monday."

For the briefest of moments, the three of them turned to look at each other, and almost in unison rose and made it for the door at Jake's side. It wouldn't be until they were in the elevator that Michael would notice that he had carried with him the biology book. Actually, it wouldn't be until that moment too that he would realize how early it was, not even ten o'clock, and the strangeness of the whole thing. What had happened with Jake?

Turning to look at his two best friends in the world, Michael asked them with unspoken words what all this had been about. Isabel shrugged, Max just looked plain guilty. Somewhere inside his very soul he could feel Maria getting worried about his own mixed feelings that had somehow reached her.

"Gym?" Michael finally said, breaking the silence between them. Isabel and Max nodded in approval. As the elevator doors slid open, Michael vaguely thought about the fact that now he had tomorrow and Friday morning free to do as he pleased. Well, whatever the hell had happened down there with Jake, Michael had great plans for this suddenly free time.

_TBC…_

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Author's Note: The paragraph that included the terms _Neurotransmitters, receptors,_ _acetylcholine, noradrenaline _and_ synaptic transmission _ were taken from the book "Life: The science of biology" by Purves, Orians & Heller, third edition, Edited by Sinauer and Freeman. I'll be getting information in the future from this book, so, since this is the first time, I thought about saying so here, and making just the references later on ;) 


	17. Small Talk

Thanks for coming back to read!! And thanks for the reviews as well guys! To those of you who asked for the 285 South assignments, eerrr… I can't send them unless I have your e-mails… Anyway, thanks again for the support!

Now let's see what else is stored in Liz's future ;)

* * *

**XVII**

**Small Talk**

"Are you sure it will be all right?" Liz asked with concern.

"Yeah, it's not the first time that something like this has happened," Dave said for the tenth time in the past ten minutes. Still, Liz felt horrible.

About twenty minutes before, she had finally taken Dave's offer of a steamy mug of hot chocolate, so five minutes later, courtesy of Max being startled by something –startling her in the process-, she had dropped half of it over Dave's desk… over Dave's puzzle… effectively ruining about twenty of the pieces that were lying closest to her. _Oh my God! _Liz had half said, half yelled, and her eyes had moved faster than light to catch Dave's expression. And Dave had been looking at his puzzle, a sad and resigned smile on his lips.

"_It was too much that it had survived Michael," Dave had finally said, getting up and going for a towel, Liz moving tiny pieces out of the way, hot chocolate dripping into the soft carpet. _

"_It does happen a lot that I miss pieces and all," Dave had said, giving Liz a small thin towel to dry herself while he wiped the table with another one. "Don't worry, I always make someone produce the pieces I no longer have. Because, as you must know, an incomplete puzzle is just no fun at all." Dave had smiled one of the warmest smiles Liz had ever seen on anyone. How could a man like him have such a perfect smile? Liz had wondered not for the first time that day, but now she was helping him dry the last drops off the table. "Those empty spaces could drive me nuts," he had said taking some of the wet pieces and looking at them with an even more resigned face. Then he had left those, and looking at her he must have noticed that she was still waiting for something else to happen. "Come on, sit down. There's no real harm."_

And ever since that moment Liz had been saying how sorry she was, because ruining a 15,000 piece puzzle was a major aggravation to anyone, no matter who that anyone was. But Liz had finally sat down again, biting her lower lip, not even looking at the mug in front of her. "I ruined your puzzle," Liz said one final time. "I really am sorry... It was Jake's present, wasn't it?"

"Kyle does have a good memory if he remembered that," Dave said, seating himself in his own chair. "And you do too. I wasn't expecting that little detail to remain in your minds." Oh, that little detail and hundreds of other little details were being put by Liz on a mental map so she could get to see the links. On some intuitive level she knew that Dave was telling more than he should… that there were clues to who he was. It was almost as if he wanted them to discover something about him. Just… not too quickly.

"Is it hard?" Dave asked her, bringing Liz back to the conversation. "You know, to be suddenly startled by something you felt from Max?"

"How do you know I was startled by Max's feelings?" Liz asked defensively, and with more than just a little bit of concern. How could Dave tell?

"I didn't know it, you've just confirmed it," Dave said raising one eyebrow, giving her a one-sided smile.

"Oh…" Liz said, ashamed of herself. It was the second time she had fallen into that verbal trap. First telling him the "diamond" was a key, and now this… Still, Dave kept watching her, thinking something, apparently.

"Everything _is_ all right, isn't it?" Dave asked, a little bit worried. It took her a second to realize that he was asking if everything was all right with her husband. Once that hit her, she nodded rapidly.

"Yeah, it was just… something startled him, like… maybe a loud noise or someone suddenly coming out of nowhere… After a while, you just sort of catch on… what is important and what is not…"

"How much is 'a while'?" Dave asked frowning a little, a genuine curiosity getting the best of him. Liz mentally sighed in frustration. How much information was "too" much information in this situation? She really wanted Dave to see Max and Michael and Isabel as what they truly were: Beings with souls just as valuable as any human soul. So… how much did she have to say for that point to be clear? Well, whatever "too" much was, she had to try to be honest with this.

"A year… maybe more… we aren't exactly sure when it started."

"Does it ever scare you?" Dave asked with a soft voice. "I mean, you've already told me it's worth it, but do you ever think of him as anything other than who he is?"

Like _what_ he is? Liz thought to herself. The funny thing was, she didn't think about that at all. She had every right in the world to do so, and yet she just couldn't bring herself to see Max as anything other than… _Max._ Slightly shaking her head "no", she smiled. "Not from the moment he let me see him."

"What about when things weren't… normal? His life changed yours; that much you've told me so far… but wasn't it something that made you afraid?" Dave pointed out, leaning back in his chair.

"Yeah…" Liz conceded, but still… "But even when things got so strange or dangerous I—I don't know… One day I was running from their enemies, and the next I was sitting in a class room. I started the day talking about the latest History assignment and ten minutes later it would be about intergalactic war…" Liz said, acknowledging that he was right, her life had been complete chaos at some points, but there were things that he couldn't possibly know about how she had managed to survive it. "And yet, through all of it, that… that strange balance between his world and my world… Max would never be anything else but himself. And…" Liz paused, trying to put her own thoughts together, "at some point you just accept that that is how life is and you keep going. I mean, there were times when I could kiss him, times when I could kick him, times when all I wanted in the world was to see him, and when I just wished he had never entered my life, _but,_" Liz emphasized, "Max has never, _ever_ scared me. He just wouldn't hurt me at all. Never like that."

"You never wondered how strange all this is?" Dave asked, almost as if he were trying to picture himself in the same position, "I mean, it didn't really scare you when you started this… 'connection' with him?"

What was up with Dave and this "being scared" scenarios? Liz thought briefly. Yet, Liz shook her head no once again. "It was just natural… feeling him…" Liz said with a small smile, thinking about all the times when that connection had been the only way of knowing if Max was all right, and all the feelings they shared. And then she remembered the darkest side of it. "And even if I can't tell you when it exactly started between all our ups and downs," Liz said seriously now, "I can tell you when exactly we knew for sure."

"When Max died?" Dave asked almost above a whisper. It startled Liz all the same. How--? Of course, Max had told Jake… he had told him just yesterday, and Dave already knew… Of course he _already _knew.

"How did you guess that?" Liz said, now acknowledging that Dave hadn't really known about it. He had _guessed_ it.

"How could I not guess it? Somebody dying, somebody you love so much dying is one of the worst things you can feel. Something that strong must have knocked you down, especially since it happened a year ago, right?"

"You are a very perceptive man…" Liz slowly said, her mind not in the conversation but on a night a year ago when she had known beyond doubt that Max was dead. Gosh, she was so cold so suddenly she shivered. But Max was fine back in the present day, though feeling slightly guilty now that Liz was focusing on his feelings.

"You sound as if you already know about that pain," Liz said, reassuring herself that Max was indeed okay, yet trying to not lose the slightest chance of getting to know one more piece of Dave's past.

"A long time ago…" Dave said dismissively. He was clearly not thinking about whatever had caused him that pain. That absence of importance –especially since it was about something personal- made Liz look closely at him. It was so strange that one minute Dave's eyes looked as if they knew every single secret she had kept for four years, and the next he was just not there, his eyes seemingly lost.

What secrets was he concealing from her? And what if this wasn't a game to him –as she sometimes thought this was- but something much more serious? For one second her curiosity got the best of her making her a little bit bold. She wanted to know just as bad as he wanted to know. She wanted to know everything.

"You know," Liz started, a little unsure of how to ask what she wanted to know, but all the same getting Dave's attention. "I've been telling you for hours now what has happened since the first day I met Max, but… what about you? Is there anyone with you?" Liz ventured to ask. What was the worst that could happen? That Dave just ignored the question?

"Anyone?" Dave asked unsure, and then, "You mean a woman?" Dave smiled as Liz nodded, his eyes slightly moving to one side of the table, not getting that lost look, but more of a playful one at some memory. "Women are beautiful, intuitive as hell, the best lie detectors ever invented, but… they are also too… complicated," he said, frowning a little. "Of course, there is Susset; without her, half the time I wouldn't know what time zone I'm in. So I guess you could say there _is_ a woman in my life."

Now, this was getting interesting. Liz looked at him with even more curiosity. "So, she's like…" she said, trying to keep Dave talking. But instead, Dave turned to look at her, waiting for her to finish. Liz lowered her eyes a little. When Dave was staring at you, he had the ability to make you feel as if you were under a microscope. "You're not in love with her, but is she? She's like in love with you or something?"

Dave laughed. A chuckle at first, and then he let go a good laugh. "Good Lord, Susset is only capable of loving her work. I swear to you, even when Jake, Ray and I are totally exhausted, that woman can keep going and going. So I guess the answer is 'no'. Susset knows better than to be in love if she wants the job to get done. She's my assistant," Dave finally clarified.

The news took her by surprise. Liz almost turned around, waiting to find a secretary in one corner typing everything that was being said in the room. Dave smiled at her. "We're on vacation. She's somewhere on this planet, as far away from me as I could get her," he joked, lowering his eyes to his puzzle and sounding a little bit annoyed at the thought of this Susset being near him. He seemed to sense this, because, turning to look at her, he amended: "Oh, she's a sweetie, but she can drive me nuts as no other mortal can in this world when I'm on vacation. Sometimes I even think the word 'vacation' is either an insult to her, or the word just doesn't make sense in her mind."

"Does she know? About us?" Liz uncertainly asked. Had Dave lied on that account?

"No," he politely said, his eyes focused on her, almost warm. "That was the deal. Only Jake, Ray and I know." Oh, he might still be lying, but all the same Liz believed him. Besides, even if he wasn't telling the truth, what could she do about it?

Nodding, Liz kept silent for a couple of seconds. Then, another question, "You're on vacation?" confused, she turned to look at him. Dave, on the contrary, gave her the broadest of smiles. "Sure thing! I refuse to work when my birthday is coming. And seriously, do you think I would consider these interviews work?"

Rather coldly, Liz answered him, "I'm not even sure what exactly we are to you. For that matter, I don't even know what your _work_ is all about to begin with."

"Ah, the big mystery of who I am," he said. Was he mocking her? "Well, if you want to know, my work is not all that glamorous. Most of my companies are run by other people, and I'm just a major investor. That way I can keep an eye on things without me being the one in the public eye. I mean, by now you already know how much I value being anonymous. This is the best way of doing it. I'm just lots and lots of numbers on lots and lots of bank accounts." Dave smiled, not at her, but more likely at the idea of what he had said. Liz couldn't tell, but somehow, it amused him to be a number.

"Ray said that you have your projects…" Liz tentatively said. "Is that what we are to you?"

Dave doubted what to answer her for two seconds. "… I guess the answer would be 'yes' and 'no'. My 'projects' rarely involve people. They are researches of various kinds, fields that I have some personal interest in. That's why I own a company which could scan the entire radio telescope network. And it is because of Jake that I'm also aware of DNA researches." Dave chuckled. "Incredible isn't it? If it weren't for Jake, I would have never paid attention to DNA research as closely as I do. I would have never found out about you. I would have never made the link between the signal coming from Roswell and the DNA found on your dress when Meta Chem hired us later on."

They both stared at each other for the briefest of moments, truly seeing for one instant the chain of events that had led to this moment in time. How many things had conspired for things to happen, and how many more were actually working right now?

"But," Dave continued, diverting his eyes away from Liz's, "the most sensitive of my projects are developed here. The most commercial are developed elsewhere." He was triggering Liz's curiosity further on, and she didn't disappoint him.

"Sensitive? What do you mean 'sensitive'?"

"Oh, come on Liz. Don't you want to go spying all around this place?" Dave said with the most sincere of smiles. "Why do you think I gave you all white cards to begin with?" Liz blushed, a little bit embarrassed. Spying on this place had been the first idea she had gotten to begin with. Talk about _perceptive_.

"But if you truly want a clue of what my projects are, you _are_ part of one of them: Getting to know how their powers work would open a million possibilities for other matters. I told Michael that, though he did point out how little he believed of what I'd said…" Dave concluded, releasing a small sigh, slightly frowning and thinking about something that had happened in that room just 24 hours earlier.

"Michael hardly believes anything… but once you earn his trust, he'll stick to you no matter what," Liz cautiously said. She had to prove to Dave –and to anyone else- that they couldn't just possibly see Max, Michael and Isabel as these heartless, emotionless creatures from outer space. And all that she was getting from this bizarre situation was the feeling that if she didn't say the right things somehow Dave could be viewing them as, well, plain aliens. And the three of them were so human, he had to see that. He _had _to.

"The trick, of course, is earning it," Dave was saying, finishing her thought about Michael's trust. "I was certainly going on the wrong way yesterday when he shattered my window," Dave said, slightly moving his head to his right as a way of signaling it. "How did you manage the trick? Somehow I don't think Max's faith in you was… contagious."

"You can say that again," Liz said, finding herself in the distant memories of a time when Isabel could barely stand her, let alone Michael be nice with her. Liz shuddered. "No, I first earned his trust… well… I guess when he read my journal."

Dave raised his eyebrows, his eyes very round. "You let Michael read it?" Clearly, there had to be more than that.

"Not exactly…" Liz said. Did she want to tell this story? Well, if she wanted to make a point of how human they were, the answer was 'yes'. "He sort of stole it."

"I wish I had been that lucky." Dave answered, his features returning to normal. But now it was Liz's turn to raise her eyebrows, her eyes very round too.

"We know your dad burnt it," Dave clarified for her, "We don't know why though. But it was a shame."

"I asked him to do it," Liz said, feeling very protective of her dad. Protective and proud. So he _had_ burnt it after all, uh?

"Why?" Dave asked, trying to understand such an atrocious act, it seemed.

"Because everything that was in there, read by the wrong people, would only lead to more and more problems. Besides, none of us could really tell our parents any long explanations. It was the only way they could get to know the reasons… the truth about why we left…" Liz paused, letting go of the explanations and remembering that she had every right to ask as he had. "Why do you say it was a 'shame'?"

Dave stared so long at her that Liz started to believe he had dozed off with his eyes open. And that made her feel more than ever that she had no idea of who Dave was or what was going on in his mind.

----------------------------------------------------------------------

She doesn't realize how important she is, Dave thought with amusement. This small town girl had won the heart of a small town boy, and somewhere between then and now she had gotten the guts to stick with him along with everything that implied. Somehow, Dave knew that ten years in the future, or twenty, or thirty, Elizabeth Parker would wake up and she wouldn't regret a thing. Not a single decision she had made, because everything this young woman did, she did it with conviction.

He knew she was the planner type too. Liz would probably think thrice everything before doing it. Taking life as it came was just plain stupid when your life was at stake. And Dave knew that only too well. After all, he had planned his own escape for a little less than six years before breaking free. And ever since he had started planning he had never stopped. Dave had a back up plan for everything he did.

The funny thing was, Dave reflected, that the reason he had gone to so many extremes to convince them to stay was because he didn't have a plan B. If they had said "no"… well, they wouldn't be having this conversation right now. And speaking of conversations, Dave silently thought, Liz was still waiting for an answer.

"It is a shame," Dave said, finally breaking the spell of his eyes on hers, "because everything you wrote there, Liz, was such a testimony to what you and they and everyone involved has endured."

"It could have been viewed like that, but… I mean, do you view it like that? Or would you have believed their background story, about Antar and their roles, if it hadn't been because you have the book?"

Oh, _the_ book, that strange metallic alien book they had gotten for just the right amount of time to scan it and put it back before anybody missed it. He wondered what Phillip Evans had done with all those alien artifacts that had been in that safe deposit box back in Roswell, New Mexico. He made a mental note to find that out.

"I gotta admit that the fact it was made out of some alien alloy did play a huge part in my believing it, and what it said, was genuine, what it said, but there are still so many loose ends with that story and what they're doing here now…"

"So you do have the book and know what it says," Liz said, with a small triumphant smile, though there was a little bit of uncertainty in her eyes. She was trying to verbally trap him just as he had done with her so many times now. He smiled. He had to admit the girl was giving it a good shot.

"Yeah, I like to decode things. Not exactly that sort of thing, though… Anyway, we are using your translation as a guide, and so far, it has proven faithful. But I'm not the only decoder you know. Michael seems pretty good at it. Finding hidden meanings, I mean."

Dave paused, trying to decide if he should tell Liz that the mathematic matrix that was hanging in there had sparked Michael's curiosity, when Liz astonished him with the strangest thing ever.

"Yeah, decoding that map," she absently said, probably thinking something else –something related to that translation and the things she didn't want him to find out, but he didn't know that. For about one second Dave had almost said "what map?", but, catching his tongue, he just nodded as if he knew what the heck was Liz talking about. So Michael _was_ a natural code breaker, it seemed. How interesting… but what map?

"You kids have done so many things in such a short time it's rather amazing. I really wish I had had the chance of reading your writings," Dave sincerely said, Liz still thinking about something else. The map? Oh, Dave knew he was going to get obsessed with it if he didn't find out what Liz had been talking about. But he had to play along. Play it cool, as the youth of these days tended to say.

"Well… I guess we have…" Liz said, finally taking her mind from wherever it was to now. "What were you doing when you were our age?" Liz asked, now all her attention back to the conversation.

Their age? That would have been around 1983… a totally different world, Dave mused for an instant. "I was counting," Dave said, his eyes turning to the numbers on the wall. "Counting, counting, counting…" he almost dreamily said. Jake had told him that it was rather weird –if not downright creepy- how he, Dave, loved numbers so much. Dave shrugged. "I like numbers," he said out loud, Liz clearly waiting for a better explanation, which he wasn't sure he wanted to give at all. By now, he had said enough about himself to spike these kids' curiosity. Just enough to keep them guessing.

"You were doing codes?" Liz said after a minute had passed. Now, _that_ was amazing. How had she known?

"Hm?" he cautiously asked as he slowly returned his gaze to her, not wanting to give Liz the answer, but curious as to why she had hit on it so accurately.

"The Network Keepers… they showed us a letter from you, about 'time controllers'… I figured they messed with some form of computer code or something…"

Of course! The Network Keepers must have told them about all that _Matrix_ crap that they were so fixed with. He liked, no, he _loved_ playing with those kids, his Network Keepers, to see their potential and their creativity when it came to making and cracking codes, but he hadn't thought his twelve Network Keepers who were stationed here were going to show his six new guests their most prized possession. That had been a move he hadn't anticipated.

"'Time controllers' are the programs that run time down here. All clocks, if you like." Dave explained, half of his thoughts reviewing all his plans for this week. What else could go astray? Such meaningless things could become such meaningful problems in the future… Liz only nodded, acknowledging that she understood.

"And yes, they 'messed' with that program, making everyone believe they were three hours behind time. It was a disaster for a lot of people and their projects, but the mistake was mine. I should have seen the window they found on my program. Thanks to that, I could correct more important programs elsewhere. That's why I thanked them."

"That's why you keep them," Liz said, arching one eyebrow. _Touché. _

"Yes…" Dave slowly said, "because of that and so many other reasons. They are really good at what they do."

"You have the best hackers in the world working for you?" Liz naively asked. Dave laughed.

"The best hackers in the world work for themselves. Not even I would have anything they want. To make it short, they want to see if a code can be broken and then they break it. They wouldn't have such a long leash with me. I don't want my Network Keepers messing up with anything they want."

"Why? You don't want them spoiling and ruining other people's work?" Liz said, and Dave had the distinct sensation that she was loving the fact that he was letting her know so much.

"Oh no, I wish I was that… _honorable_… No, messing up like that is traceable. And the last thing they want, my Network Keepers, is I –or anyone- tracing them back to this place. So, they content themselves with being programmers and not hackers. Which leaves them with only my programs to hack into. And that I can live with."

"So you _were_ writing codes when you were 19?" Liz said, returning to her first question, doing exactly what he had done so many times with so many people, coming full circle. And that was so weird. It had been less than four hours since she had been talking with him, and she had gotten the grasp of his own speech. Oh, how much did Liz Parker amuse him!

"I guess you can say so…" Dave finally gave in. And it was so short, that definition, "writing codes", because he had been doing so much _more_ than just that… Codes were the base, true, but he had built himself a skyscraper. And all before he was even 19. Now he had a small empire of his own. He glanced at Liz for just a second. How much was this girl, this young woman, going to know about him and his… _codes_, by the time this was all over? How perceptive would Liz Parker become?

----------------------------------------------------------------------

If Ray had ever kept a record of his worst days, he would have surely run to his apartment, opened his notebook, and scribbled this date with big red letters. Or so he imagined himself when he had seen Michael, Max and Isabel walking toward him before 10:00 a.m.

Oh no, Jake, you didn't! You couldn't have! Not you, not them, and certainly not now!

But all these thoughts Ray had to swallow –and hard- because he couldn't let these kids know that they made him afraid. No, letting people know you were afraid only gave them an extra power over you. These were kids, and he had to keep reminding himself that every time he was talking to them. These were just kids. Well, maybe not _just_ kids…

Still, Dave was leaving the picture on Saturday night, and he'd better practice his "cool" exterior with all of them, because whether he liked it or not, as Jake liked to tease him, he was going to be their babysitter… By all means, Ray was their direct contact with Dave and the one who had to see they had everything they needed. He wondered why Dave hadn't appointed that to Jake. It would have been more practical, wouldn't it? Jake already had to spend a lot of time with Max, Michael and Isabel. Why divide them? But of course, Dave's logic didn't make sense to him half of the time; Dave didn't share all the facts with him half of the time either.

Whatever the case, Ray didn't like to be in the company of all five of them while Max looked as bad as Liz had on Monday. Those kids needed to give themselves a rest. That tension would only lead to a very ghastly ulcer, Ray reflected as Maria and Kyle welcomed their friends with mixed feelings of gladness and worry. After all, _why_ were they here so early?

"Maxwell here lost his temper," Michael said, hugging Maria as she asked exactly what was on Ray's mind. As all four of them –Maria, Kyle, Michael and Ray- turned to look at Max, Max got the guiltiest look one could muster, and looking anywhere but at them, barely said: "He said it was Dave's fault."

"You lost your temper?" Kyle said, with big round eyes, probably imagining, as Ray was, exactly how Max had lost his temper. And Ray knew the basics of what they could do… No, if something had happened to Jake they wouldn't be here looking so… normal. They weren't cold blooded murders. That Ray knew for certain.

"I got startled," Max said defensively, "I wasn't meaning to do anything."

"Define 'anything'" Kyle pressed on. Now that Ray was looking at Kyle, he noticed that Kyle hadn't been so chatty today. Something was bothering Kyle, Ray thought, as the two boys were talking to each other. Some gut feeling was telling Ray that he should be more alert about Kyle too.

"I shattered a glass door, that's all." Max said, looking uncomfortable just as Kyle was looking surprised. Michael rolled his eyes as if saying "yeah, that's all," while Maria gave him a sympathetic smile. After all, Maria knew, just as Ray knew, that Max was worried about Liz –and it was just a waste of time, as if Dave would do anything to any of them after everything he had invested in them. And oddly enough, Isabel wasn't exactly paying attention. Was it his imagination or did she too looked uncomfortable. Almost as if she were… avoiding him?

For a second he remembered his dream. Isabel had looked so real to him. She was a beautiful woman, of course, but she wasn't his type. Not that it had been _that_ kind of dream, really, but now that he half remembered it, he smiled to himself: Imagine if Dave was the alien here. Oh, Dave and Jake had their mystery past, sure, but they were no aliens. Where had he gotten such mixed up ideas? It was amazing what the subconscious could come up with.

"Jake told us you had some ideas for us," Max said, changing the subject, taking Ray by surprise for a second. Maria and Kyle turned to look at him, clearly not knowing a thing about what Ray and Jake had talked about, and what obviously Jake had told the other three down there at the lab. "I think it should include some exercise," Max said, all serious now. Of course, with Max, it was almost always "all serious".

"So, you are going to take his offer? I mean, seriously?"

Max nodded. "We barely made it last time… when the FBI almost got us…" Max said in that quiet way of his. "And technically, we didn't really 'make it' _the_ last time or we wouldn't be here. So, if you truly want to help us to learn how to escape, I am taking it seriously." Ray had to admit the kid had given this good thought. And he was 100 right: They hadn't made it last time, and Ray was the one to blame for that. Well, at least on the intellectual part of the plan. For a brief moment he wondered where Steve Lewis and his two friends were, since they had been the ones to really get them.

The other thing that Ray also knew was that, out of the three of them, Max was the one who actually exercised. Sure, Isabel tried to keep some sort of schedule about it, but Michael didn't really bother much with "keeping in good shape". Yet Max did take his routine seriously. Aside from them, Kyle too exercised regularly, but Ray thought Kyle's approach to exercise had more to do with his way of life than Max's approach to how to _save_ his life.

As Ray guided them into the Gym he had the warm feeling that maybe, just maybe, this whole thing Jake had proposed –about the two of them teaching these kids how to escape- might work. And, because he knew nothing about Michael breaking the window, he also thought that maybe they both would be in one piece when this all was over too.

----------------------------------------------------------------------

"I'm really sorry about the puzzle," Liz said one last time, and Dave would have rolled his eyes at her if he didn't know how important it was for her to apologize. Besides, he was just dying to return to the subject of "the map", but he would wait. Obviously Liz hadn't noticed she had slipped on that, and if he was too eager on it too soon, she would.

Turning from the cupboard where he was looking for some snacks, he answered her, "It's really okay. I'll have it fixed sooner or later." Then, finding a peanut bag –and it was a pity that Jake couldn't eat these things- he straightened up and turned to her. "Besides, I've put so many puzzles together by now, that I have already lost count."

"You must really enjoy doing that…" Liz tentatively said. Oh, Dave loved this. "Small talk" was always the best talk, because it was so full of little details that otherwise would just not matter in a serious talk. He nodded with a small smile.

"Anyway, I guess napkin puzzles don't really count," Dave said remembering childhood times. But now he had Liz's complete attention, frowning a little as if trying to understand something very hard. Of course, what he had said hadn't made sense. He had to keep reminding himself that people always got lost in translation with him.

"'Napkin' puzzles… err… when I was a kid, I sort of entertained myself by shredding napkins into tiny pieces and then I put them back together. Those were actually my first puzzles. Imagine my delight when I found out you could actually buy them!" Oh, imagine his Mom's anger when he had gotten tired of the napkins, then tired of the newspapers, then tired of the magazines, and had finally started ripping apart family photos… He still shred and put back together napkins on airplanes or when he had long waits before him, and it always, _always_, gave him a guilty pleasure, just to remember his Mom's expression of "what am I going to do with you now?"

Reaching his seat while he was opening the bag, Dave turned to look at Liz –why had she gotten so quiet so suddenly?- and discovered that Liz was staring at him, a little bit pale, and was she actually breathing?

"Are you all right?" Dave asked with concern, standing straight and watching her closely from the other side of the table. "Liz?"

Liz quickly said yes with her head, blinking very fast. "Yeah—yeah… hm… I was just… distracted… you know… something… something with Max… But everything's all right." She smiled. A very faint and somehow phony smile. Was Liz lying? But lying about what? His story of napkin puzzles could be mildly amusing, but there were no secrets hidden in it.

Of course, how could he know what he had just described had nothing to do with any of his secrets but had everything to do with Liz's own secrets. Because Liz had dreamt that. Liz had dreamt of him shredding a napkin while he was waiting for her at the Crashdown Café and she had been certain then that he was going to put it back together. And it could mean… it could mean that… that her powers were coming back…

_TBC…_


	18. Unexpected Encounters

Thanks for coming back to read!! And thanks for the reviews!! They are most greatly appreciated :) Now, here's a nice long chapter ;)

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**XVIII**

**Unexpected Encounters**

Why was it that she felt now that she had more questions than answers? And why couldn't she just shake off the terrible feeling that had settled in her stomach? Could Dave know? He had the book translation, had even hinted that he was re-decoding it again… did he know about their powers? And were hers coming back?

"For what it's worth Liz, I do hope you feel safe here. But I do not intend to keep you here until you decide to leave, you know," Dave was saying. She had asked him about how people managed to live underground for months and months without complaining, desperately trying to bury her fears 'til she had the time to think all these things over. "I just need to keep you away for a little while… and then you can decide to move to another one of my facilities."

What exactly was _a little while, _Liz thought for a second. It was obvious that Dave was hiding them, heck, that was part of the deal, but now it seemed the hiding place would eventually change… But change where? And why not _now_? Unfortunately, that had been her last question, since now they were both standing and Dave showing her with his right hand the way to the door while walking behind her. The time was up.

One last glimpse at the now spoiled puzzle made her feel guilty. One last glance at the shattered window made her feel curious all over again. Michael had some explaining to do…

But the main thing was that this interview was over, for better or worse, and she had to gather her thoughts so she could see the bigger picture. Why was Dave so interested in the details of her life with Max yet had failed to ask other things, especially about their powers, since that was what he was so interested in? He wanted the social part, not the scientific one, and that intrigued Liz beyond words…

"I'm sorry about the puzzle," Liz said one last time to cover the fact that she had lingered some time watching the shattered window, and tried to cover it as if she had been watching the puzzle. Dave smiled, a little bit off guard, his mind no doubt wandering somewhere else too. But as they reached the door and he looked down at her, he frowned a little.

"I'm sorry it hasn't been easier for you," he said thoughtfully, with such a warm feeling that it caught _her_ off guard. Thinking better of it two seconds later, Dave opened the door for her and, checking his watch, added, "I have kept you long enough and I certainly don't want your husband thinking I kidnapped you or something. I don't think my windows will stand it."

He smiled again, not with the same warmth but with the same honesty, and so Liz left Dave's office, wondering exactly what he had been talking about. Was he meaning "now things are going to be easier", or was he talking about "I'm sorry, but things are not going to get any easier now"? Amazing how fast and how confusing thoughts could get in one's mind, at the oddest moments…

And so she found herself listening as the door almost soundlessly clicked closed, Dave already gone from her grasp. For a moment she wondered where Dave's apartment was, or if he even had one. Well, he had to sleep somewhere, didn't he? If Isabel had heard her thoughts, she might have begged to differ for an instant…

But Liz was alone and now she was in the same room where, four days ago, they had made a dangerous deal. It was odd to be here, she suddenly realized. The three black leather couches were spotless as they had been that day, the walls dark and bare, with a brush-like texture over them that made them look less empty. There was the door they had walked through, and she so vividly remembered thinking "when this door closes behind us, there is no going back". Had she been right? Had they willingly entered their own cage? And what about their keeper? Would he let them go when they finally wished for it?

Turning her head a little bit to her right, she found it almost impossible to see where the wall stopped and the door started, but of course, the room was there. And Dave was there too. The man who wanted to know the story of her life and her relationship with Max. There has to be something else, Liz thought, still standing there. He wouldn't be so interested in knowing all this if he only wanted to study them… but what? Four hours talking to the man and she still didn't know. Frustration crept over her. Her only hope of helping Max and the whole group rested on the fact that she had to get information. That was the only useful thing for their future lives.

The door separating the room from the small corridor that led to the elevator opened almost as soundlessly as the one she had just come out had closed. And someone was just coming through from the other side, some 10 feet away.

Around 6 feet tall, thin and with short reddish hair, Liz guessed the forty-something man in faded jeans and gray sweater in front of her was no other than the famous Jake. He was checking his watch as the door opened, and, when he looked at her, he was as startled as she felt. He glanced back at his watch looking surprised, as if he thought his watch had been lying to him.

"Oh… I thought… you were already down…" Jake said walking to her. Liz froze.

He was a little bit different than she had imagined from Max's description, thinner, taller, and rather carefree, though he had a somewhat tired expression. Jake extended his hand and Liz shook it. He had a firm grip, and his eyes illuminated with his smile. So like Dave's, Liz thought, amused. Hadn't she been told that she and Maria shared the same gestures sometimes? Was it like that with Jake and Dave? At least that reassured her that some things they were telling them were true. Jake and Dave _were_ friends.

"I'm glad to finally meet you," he said as he straightened up. Gosh, she felt so small standing in front of him.

"Yeah… I was thinking the same thing…" Liz said, a little bit uncertain. The guy seemed like a good person all right; but were his intentions good as well?

"I truly wanted to be here when you first arrived on Saturday," Jake continued, clasping his hands in front him, talking to her as if he were a long lost teacher who had just found her in the oddest place in the world.

"Yeah… Dave said that… But you had an… allergic reaction?" Liz asked, still a little bit unsure of what to say. Was this a casual meeting or something planned? If she had had the time, she would have thought she was being paranoid, but if asked, she wouldn't have been able to remember when had been the last time that meeting someone new hadn't made her suspicious. But she had a very good point: It was around 12:40, it wasn't that late for Jake to think she should already be down at the cafeteria, or somewhere down there having lunch.

"Don't remind me," Jake was saying with a little laugh about his allergic reaction. "And then, once I met them, well… I though it would be rather inappropriate to just drop by your apartment to introduce myself."

Wise man, Liz thought. But for some reason, she wasn't sure of what to say to continue the conversation. Her mind was racing with a million things she should ask him and another million possibilities about what he could do or wanted from Max, Isabel and Michael. And what would he say if he knew about her and Kyle's changes? She knew that she had to say something before the silence got that awkward feeling, but she was somehow stuck in the idea that her husband's life was in the hands of this man. If things came to the worst…

Jake leaned in a couple of inches, making Liz take a small step back.

"I was wondering if you could help me…" Jake said lowering his voice. Now what? Liz thought. "There was an incident today…" Jake continued, his voice clear, the words coming out slow and well articulated. His minty breath was fresh, but all this Liz barely noticed. An _incident_? Her heartbeat doubled in her chest. "And I'm not sure how to apologize next time I see them," Jake finished.

"An incident?" Liz all but blurted it out, frowning, worrying. No, nothing bad had happened or she would have known it… she would have _felt_ it. "You mean… about 10 o'clock?" Liz asked, thinking that the only "incident" she could think of was Max getting startled…

"You felt Max?" Jake said, amused, more of a statement than a question. He arched his eyebrows, giving him a funny look. "Then I guess I should apologize to you too."

"You startled Max on purpose?" Liz said, a little bit mad. Was he playing with their feelings and reactions? Because whatever Jake had done, it had startled Max _a lot_. Max just hadn't seen it coming.

"Oh no, it was an accident. I made a mistake with a file on my computer that went into their room," Jake assured her. "It wasn't such a big thing, let me tell you, because neither Michael or Isabel reacted the same way… But I'm not talking about that…" Jake trailed off, as if remembering something…

"So… what are you apologizing for, then?" Liz asked, not understanding what Jake had done. Jake centered his eyes on hers.

"For taking it up with them when I should have taken it up with _him_," Jake's eyes diverted for a moment to the wall on her right. "So, now that I've realized what an idiot I've made of myself, I'm not sure how to apologize to them…" Jake's eyes returned to hers, intent. "I knew they were tense, I mean, that you are all tense, and so I told myself to take it slow. Give them time to adjust, to get to know the surroundings… But… it's hard to take it slow when you know what they can do, and then I got all excited, and I lost myself into planning the sessions, and I totally forgot about the fact that—" Jake stopped himself in mid-sentence. Liz just stared at him, arching an eyebrow. By now she had unconsciously crossed her arms in front of herself.

"And I really don't want to sound like a mad scientist or something," Jake said, pausing for a second there. "God only knows what you kids have in mind about me and Dave and this whole situation."

"Maybe then you can tell me what you have in mind about you, about them… and about _him._" Liz said, all serious now, thinking this was her best opportunity to get something more. Besides, Jake didn't seem as guarded as Dave, especially if he was seeking an apology.

Surprising her a little, Jake gestured to the black couches with his right hand as he let go a small smile. "If that's what it takes to gain your trust and advice, then I'll say it's a small price, Miss Elizabeth."

Funny introduction, Liz thought for an instant. Neither of them had really said their names, and yet they knew exactly who the other was. Letting go of that thought, Liz took the lead, a little bit worried about what she was getting herself into, and because it was already 12:40. Well, as long as Max didn't feel anything wrong coming from her, he shouldn't need to worry. Besides, she was just way too eager to see how willing Jake was to talk.

"Well, let's see what I can tell you that might meet your expectations…" Jake said as they both sat. He looked for a moment to the floor, and then back at her. "You want to know about me? Well, then… I guess if I have to label myself, you should see me as a neurologist. I love all things brain related. But then again, because I'm allergic to almonds and nuts and that kind of thing, I've spent a lot of my time researching about that, which of course has little to do with your brain," he paused, a tentative smile appearing on his face, one that Liz returned with the same uncertainty. This guy was complicated, she was sure of that. "So you can say that I'm an expert in that field, if only to see if I can avoid getting that sick every time I make such terrible mistakes as I did on Saturday. It's shameful that we still don't know exactly what causes allergies in the first place, or why some people are allergic and others aren't, or why some substances make some people terribly ill, and others just a little, or why so many people are allergic to one specific thing, or why you can develop an allergy even now, when you are older, or why—" Jake stopped in mid-sentence, as it seemed to be his usual way of talking, and let go a little laugh at himself. "I always talk too much when I'm carried away, sorry. Where was I?"

"Allergies," Liz said, slightly narrowing her eyes, in a confused way. The guy _was_ complicated.

"Yeah, well… The other thing you might find useful is that, since I was a kid I've been fascinated with what makes us who we are, you know, what defines us as individuals, biologically speaking."

"Genetics?"

"Genetics, yeah. The field is way too extensive, of course, so that's more of a hobby. I know people who are doing interesting work, though, so sometimes I do get to see things up close and personal. Sometimes I do some trials of my own. It is intriguing, don't you think, that so much of what we think and do is actually linked to our own genes."

"You think that who we are is defined by our genetic code?" Liz asked; the little scientist in her couldn't be restrained.

"I think they define a lot of who we can be, and what we can achieve. If Dave and I hadn't been given our whiz genes by the biological lottery, we would have had a very different life. Of course, genes are just one part of the equation, but I think that our environment just shapes what we were already born with."

For one moment Liz wanted to pursue the subject. Nature versus Nurture was always one of her favorite discussions, and here was a man who was just the perfect candidate for such a debate. But other questions needed answers.

"What were you doing before Dave called you?" Liz asked, hoping that one day she would get to sit and chat along with someone like Jake.

"Opening a Coke," he said, smiling, obviously joking. "Honestly, I was researching about perception. How the brain interprets the world, and how that perception can be altered."

"I thought you were doing something with that… 'camera' you have down there," Liz said frowning a little, trying to remember everything Max had told her about his Lab sessions.

"I'm glad you guys talk to each other," Jake said knowingly, "and yes, I was working with that 'camera', but it was only a Saturday's diversion. The project isn't mine, I was just invited to see what they –that's my colleagues- were getting from their readings. But I couldn't stop myself from getting one of those singular lenses for myself and, well, when Dave presented the project to me, I thought it could be interesting to see what it would show. That's why I had it installed." Jake ended, seemingly thinking about something else, while Liz was reading far more into Jake's words.

"They are just a project to you, aren't they?" she coldly said. And here she was hoping for a nice guy… Silence settled in after her question.

A whole minute seemed to pass before Jake answered her, very calmly and very seriously.

"I wish it were so, because then I wouldn't be looking for a way to apologize, you know."

"What are they to you then?" Liz asked with a more level voice. She had to admit he had a point, but she still wasn't buying it. She couldn't risk believing this man just because she _wanted_ to believe him. Because she desperately wanted to believe that things would be okay. That Dave and Jake and Ray were okay.

"Scared kids with a lot of energy surrounding them," Jake said smiling again. "You are all just kids trusting no one and with a lot to lose, Miss Elizabeth. You are oil waiting for a spark, and Dave loves to make sparks. Loves to play with fire too."

"Does he get burned a lot?" Liz said rather coldly and angrily.

"Not _a lot_," Jake answered without even flinching or pausing, "But he has had his burns. Dave… he's a very complex individual. And though half of the time I don't know where he is or what he's doing, I trust him to be a responsible man."

_Responsible._ Not "good" or "nice". Responsible… She had to admit that it was better than "bad" or "selfish", but the word had a strange effect as well: _Responsible_ sounded like an honest and true answer.

"What is going to happen when he leaves on Saturday?" They had –the group- talked little about that, mostly because thinking ahead in this place never led to happy answers, but they did want to know, for sure, what to expect once Saturday was gone.

"You'll stay with us. That's Ray and I, of course. I was actually waiting for a little time to get to meet you, as I've told you. Maria and Kyle as well. It was the right thing to do since I will spend so much time with Max, Michael and Isabel. You shouldn't get a feeling of being separated once things settle down here. Besides, Ray seems to be doing really great with you guys at the Gym. He's really fond of all of you, Ray."

"He is?" Liz asked, a little bit too harsh. Not that Ray had done anything that had upset her or Maria or Kyle, but… Ray still felt like a guard watching their every move in this prison…

"Yeah," Jake said, smiling, "he followed you for about two years. He was so disappointed that you didn't get to have your graduation party after all you had been through."

A graduation party had been the last thing on her mind the day they had fled. Gosh, junior prom had sucked, and Jake was right: They hadn't even had a proper graduation party after the act…

"I though he was—_is _going to be Dave's representative."

"Sure he is going to be. That doesn't mean he can't like you. Although I cannot say that he's liking me now…" Jake enigmatically said.

"Why? Something happened between you two?" Liz asked, a little bit worried.

Jake said with a mischievous smile playing on his lips and eyes, "I sent your husband, Michael and Isabel to go wherever they wanted for the day… and I bet that was his place… and he was kind of worried they might explode something… or someone… mainly him."

"They would never do such thing, they would never hurt anyone," Liz firmly said. Hadn't Ray followed them around? Shouldn't he know better? "Not without a reason…" Liz concluded.

"Never underestimate what stress can do to you, Miss Elizabeth. Especially the kind that you get when your safety is in jeopardy."

Jake paused to give Liz time for his words to sink in. What was Jake trying to tell her with this? That Max, Michael and Isabel were unconsciously dangerous?

"Are you… afraid of them?" she asked.

"I have a healthy dose of respect for what they are and what they can do. I'm not afraid of them, I'm afraid of what can happen when they lose control. And I got a glimpse of it this morning when Max lost control."

"He lost _what_?" Liz's words were out of her mouth before she even realized it. What was Jake talking about? It was actually easier to believe Max had lost his wedding ring than he had lost his control, Liz thought for a microsecond there.

"Oh, he can tell you all about it over lunch," Jake dismissively said, "but the point was, it made me really see what Dave is doing to you, and that all along I've been following his game without considering the consequences," Jake took a look at his watch. "Now, if there are no more questions, Miss Elizabeth, I have a discussion to pick up with Dave, but any insight you can give me on how to apologize to them would be most welcomed."

An apology? Oh, right… that was the point of this, wasn't it? Because Jake had said something to them when he should've saved it for Dave. She was still trying to picture Max losing control. And she just plain failed.

"Was it a really honest mistake?" Liz asked, part of her still wanting to ask a million questions, but part of her knowing that, if they were going to be here a long time –and it certainly seemed like it- getting on Jake's good side could mean really good things –and information- in the future.

"Yes. I'm not going to lie to you, it was amazing to have a real glimpse into their abilities, but it shouldn't have happened like that."

Then, leaning a little bit forward, Liz almost whispered: "Are you honestly going to give _him_ a hard time?" Liz's eyes moved for a second toward the concealed door. Jake's eyes moved as well. Then, they locked into each other's eyes.

"I'll do my best," Jake said smiling. Liz let go a small smile too. It was somehow comforting to know that someone wasn't under Dave's "wing" like they were.

"Yeah, well," Liz said standing up, "next time you see them, just be honest. Don't talk about vague things. You are right, you know, they have a big imagination when it comes to you and that Lab… and hardly anything is good or even remotely promising. They don't even know why you just keep talking and they do nothing but talk back…"

Jake stood up as well, thoughtful.

"I'll really do my best, Miss Elizabeth," Jake said, "and thank you very much for your insight." He extended his hand in a friendly way and they both shook hands again, in a slightly awkward motion.

But just as Liz walked towards the door from where Jake had come out ten minutes before, a last question occurred to Liz. A very crucial question. Turning to face him, she seriously asked.

"You said he's a responsible man. Would you put your life in his hands?"

"Oh Liz," Jake said, for the very first time using the short of her name, "that I have already done."

----------------------------------------------------------

Jake watched as Liz disappeared behind the door that led to the underground complex and sighed in a tired way. Gosh, he was needing a drink at… he looked at his watch… 12:52 p.m. Dave was definitely no good for his health.

That thought made him chuckle. Hadn't he just told Liz that he had already entrusted his life into Dave's hands? He let his little laugh go, and stared at the almost invisible door at his right. He did intend to say one or two things to Dave that he knew his friend wouldn't like to hear, but Jake couldn't deny what he had told Liz: Dave had saved his life in more than just the literal way. Dave had, indeed, given him a life to live as he pleased, a prospect that thirty years ago –around the time he had been 14 and Dave 8- had only been a dream.

Dave had a talent for that: Making dreams come true. A dreamer by nature, Dave made sure that once in a while he could play the fairy and spread some magic dust on someone's life. But that was a hobby at best. Whatever he was doing now had little to do with these kids' dreams. Indeed, because Dave was so good at getting insights about people's dreams he knew exactly what to offer in his deals. What to give and what to expect back.

Dave was, Jake reflected for a second, a very good diplomat. He had to be to play these dangerous games. Of course, diplomatic manners had to be learned, and 30 years ago Jake would have never guessed that his troublemaker eight-year-old best friend was ever going to develop a diplomatic side.

For the slightest of instants he had a flash of Michael being a diplomatic man. No, _that_ was not going to happen… Sure, for a very good reason, Michael could try to be polite, but he would never achieve a career in the diplomatic world even if his life depended on it.

Looking straight at the door, Jake wondered exactly what Dave was aiming for, because having Michael Guerin caged –even if it was such a huge cage as the underground complex- required nerves, or an amazing skill at being stupid. And Dave could be lots of things, but he wasn't stupid.

Maybe Dave wanted to play with fire, but Jake was afraid that Dave was underestimating these kids. Max losing control over something as trivial as a loud sound had changed Jake's perspective about Dave's "great scheme of things". What was Dave expecting? Jake didn't even try to understand what Dave was planning in the long run, but he had an uneasy feeling that his friend had overlooked some aspects of this… _captivity,_ for lack of a better word.

Sighing heavily again, Jake knocked on the door twice. Without waiting for a reply, he entered the hidden room.

It was chillier than he had expected. Dave had mumbled something about his office being cold yesterday, but he hadn't said why. Jake had just assumed he was having problems with the environmental controls. Good thing he had worn a sweater this time. Actually, he was hoping for a short stroll later on. He was beginning to miss the breeze, the snow, and even the cold.

Dave didn't acknowledge his presence but for a single glimpse when Jake entered. All of Dave's attention was pinned on the very flat monitor of his very flat laptop, his fingers moving at a speed that any secretary would have envied. Jake didn't interrupt him; he knew that when Dave was that deep into whatever was on the monitor, only a catastrophe level 6 would get him out of it. Actually, it was probably a possible catastrophe level 6 that had caught his attention like this to begin with.

Jake took a seat in front of Dave, his fingers already moving to catch the closest piece so he could keep putting together the puzzle. And then he froze. The closest pieces were all screwed. Wet and chocolate colored, the ruined pieces caught his attention as badly as the monitor had caught Dave's.

Dave loved his puzzles. He collected them all over the world for some reason or another. Had hundreds of the things stocked on his private planes so he wouldn't get bored on the long trips back and forth. Susset hated them just because they would divert Dave's attention sometimes. And Jake, well, he had fun with the little pieces and the intricate designs. But one thing was true: Dave treasured his puzzles as people treasured money. Pieces could never go amiss. He just couldn't take the empty spaces… The pattern being altered. And everyone was careful when in the presence of his puzzles, though, of course, pieces did get lost. And the puzzle thrown away. It was an old mania of his friend's. But, why were these pieces ruined?

"_An incident?" Liz had said, and then, remembering, "You mean… about 10 o'clock?"_

Liz. She had felt Max getting startled all the way up here and, apparently, had been startled herself. How strong was this psychic bond? He could be wrong, Jake knew, but the idea of Liz spilling her hot chocolate in this particular spot seemed right. He raised his eyes to look at Dave, but his attention was caught by something behind Dave: A shattered window.

"Liz broke the window?" Jake said out loud, bewildered, not knowing how that could have happened in the first place. A bird crashing against it sounded more plausible, besides—

"Michael did," Dave answered without taking his eyes off of the flat monitor, his fingers pausing now and then, and then resuming full speed again.

"Michael?!" Jake exclaimed now, his eyes intent on Dave. "When?"

It took thirty seconds, but Dave finally said, "Yesterday, of course." Pressing a final enter, he raised his eyes to meet Jake's, "Something I said about Maria didn't agree with him. So I got a warning."

"You got a shattered window, that's what you got," Jake pointedly said, standing up to see the window. Why hadn't he noticed yesterday? Oh yeah, Dave had placed his own chair there, hiding it. He hadn't wanted Jake or Ray to see… and yesterday hadn't been this cold, of course.

Dave returned to his keyboard, while Jake inspected the shattered glass right beside him. This was a 2 inches thick glass, which, from the outside, looked like part of the wall. It was perfect to see what was going on out there without being seen. And Michael had shattered, not broken it. Just like Max had shattered the equally 2 inches thick glass door in the Lab early that morning. But Max had done it involuntarily… maybe he hadn't "let go" a lot of energy.

But then, Michael would have had to control his energy… Or he would have had broken the window. And the pattern of the fissures... the point of impact of Michael's energy almost in the center, a little bit to the left. Of course, Dave would have blocked his view a little, and Michael had had to avoid Dave in his line of "fire".

"Interesting pattern, uh?" Dave said, without looking back.

"Were you planning to tell me?" Jake said for an answer, still tracking the way the energy had traveled in the window. He would return and photograph it. If he tried to take the shattered glass, chances were it would just fall apart. Actually, it was amazing it was still holding on.

"Not right now," Dave said distractively, murmuring something to himself. Then, out loud: "The warning was meant for me, not for you or Ray. There was no point in telling anyone, really."

"_Really?_ Are you kidding me?" Jake stood so fast he almost toppled over Dave's leather chair. "Gees Dave, you don't tell me they are here against their will, you don't tell me why you want them here in the first place, and, _really, _would it kill you to tell me something that might warn _me_ about what to do and say with those kids?"

Dave didn't answer. The keyboard keys being pushed were the only sound in the room for the next minute or two. For one second Jake just wanted to crash the damn monitor down and get Dave's attention once and for all. But he waited.

"Why are you doing this?" Dave said out of the blue, eyes still glued to the monitor.

"Why am I—Dave, for God's sake, would you just look at me and tell me what is going on in that little mind of yours?"

"Uh?" Dave said looking at him, really looking at him for the first time since Jake had entered the room. "I'm talking to the idiot who is meddling with my level five codes, not you! Give me a minute so I can look and talk to you at the same time."

Dave returned to his codes –Jake could now see that- and left Jake speechless. He now truly contemplated the notion of crashing the computer through the window, and getting Dave's attention. God, he was standing there, trying to have a serious conversation, and Dave was "meddling" with someone who was trashing his precious codes?

Taking a deep breath, Jake coldly said: "you are avoiding me." Dave stopped his typing for a second. Then, resuming his keyboard activity, he simply said, "Just give me thirty seconds and I'll get him out of my system."

Those were the longest thirty seconds Jake had to shut up and wait in his entire life. But there had been an undertone in Dave's sentence that Jake knew meant "this is important". And, as good as his word, Dave was closing the laptop 28 second later –after all, Jake _had_ been counting- and letting go a small sigh, Dave finally turned around and looked at him.

"I'm not avoiding you Jake. I just didn't know how to tell you things with Michael hadn't gone so well, especially with Liz coming today. Those kids would have smelled your fear as sharks smell blood, and I didn't want you behaving any different today. Same with Ray, of course," Dave finished up, both knowing that Ray hadn't been looking forward to being with the "Pod Squad" alone… And Jake felt slightly guilty for the first time today about that…

But that wasn't important now. Dave's intention to explain had made Jake's outraged feelings recede a little, but just a little.

"Has it crossed your mind that maybe I wouldn't have panicked and that I might have found that information useful?" he said barely keeping his voice under control, his eyes burning.

"Yes," Dave said without hesitation, standing up and walking past Jake towards the cupboard, "but I wasn't going to take the risk."

_Risk? _An astonished Jake watched as Dave opened the fridge in search of his lunch –or more likely dinner, since he was living according to Berlin's time zone- and finally was able to say:

"You couldn't take the _risk_? How risky does it sound to you that Max is losing control over his abilities because of how tense he is?"

"He hurt you?" Dave automatically asked, the fridge forgotten, cutting into Jake's train of thought about how _risky_ this _whole_ thing was turning out to be. And Dave's eyes were looking as serious as two minutes before when he had been watching his monitor. There was no avoidance or excuse in those eyes. Dave was genuinely concerned.

"No, of course not," Jake said, a little bit surprised at Dave's reaction. Not that Dave had looked him up and down to see if he was telling the truth about not being harmed, but he wasn't far from it. Something flickered in Dave's eyes and, relaxing a little with Jake's answer, he finally said in a resigned voice:

"What do you want me to do? Really, what should I change about this whole situation?"

Now, _that_ was a surprise. And Dave had that expression that said "I'm really listening to you and I might just take your advice too."

"Stop playing with them," Jake said, going to the cupboard himself to fish something out of the fridge. He was hungry, and lunch did seem promising now that Dave was, apparently, going to hear some sense after all.

"I'm not playing with them," Dave said in a rather exasperated tone, as Jake was emerging from the fridge with a wrapped sandwich, just like the one that Dave had taken out. "What do you want me to do? What do you want me to change? Let's hear what your so-called genius status can come up with." Dave said raising one eyebrow, Jake's eyes going to the shattered window.

"These interviews, for starters. They are too tense imagining what you are doing up here. And they are scattered… Why are you dividing them like this, anyway? One group here, one group there, one person here…" Jake fixed his eyes on Dave who held it for about two seconds before bending down to the fridge once more, his wrapped sandwich still wrapped besides Jake's.

"To prove to them they are safe," he answered, getting a Diet Coke out of the fridge. Jake wrinkled his nose. He hated anything diet related. "And I have to do those interviews personally, how else am I going to get an insight?" Dave said, passing him a good ol' classic Coke. Gosh, eating with Dave, Jake was going to gain some extra pounds, that was for sure.

"What about spacing them then? Take more time than just a week," Jake said. What the heck was Dave talking about with "insight"? Hadn't his intelligence group given him all the insight one person could wish for? Hadn't he sent his very trained Messengers around for details?

"The interviews can't be re-scheduled," Dave said, the sound of the can being opened very loud. "I can't take more time that I already have, and I won't have time to meet with them any sooner than by the end of March."

"What about something less claustrophobic then? The fact that they feel caged doesn't help matters, you know?" Now his can being opened sounded loud. Dave didn't hesitate to answer him after he had swallowed his first drink.

"I can't move them anywhere, not yet… At least in here they have a sense of still being in their country… like they have a chance to escape and not be lost…" Dave took a pause, thinking… "I don't know Jake… if you say that I'm the problem that has to be removed… But hell, I can't just leave in the middle of the night; they would get even more suspicious if I did that. My time with them is already planned out, whether you, or they, or whoever thinks I'm playing with them. But you know Jake, maybe you can change something. I'm not the only one involved with them, and what you do in your time with them is your business."

"Good to know," Jake dismissively said, passing beside Dave to open the fridge for the forth time and see what he could get a bite of that wasn't wrapped, "since I have already given them the next four days free to do as they please," he answered, standing up from the fridge with a slice of apple pie he had brought in the day before. It was his time to play it cool, while –hopefully- Dave fumed.

For an instant, it seemed to work. Dave's expression changed to the universal gesture of "you did _what?_" and then, closing his eyes for an instant, he laughed. Jake looked at him trying to figure him out. Weren't they having a discussion right now?

"I am _not_ playing with them," Dave finally said, regaining his good humor, leaning against the cupboard, his eyes fixed on the numbers on the wall, "but you must know that if they were not with you this morning, probability dictates that they were with their friends… which, hopefully, were with Ray… you shouldn't have sent them with Ray… Ray is gonna kill you, you know?"

That small guilty feeling returned to him a little bit stronger. "That's not the point Dave, and you know it. We have to figure out a way for them to not be jumpy at every sound. And I mean that literally."

"Well, I'm all ears. But I don't see what you want me to do differently. You know as well as I do that they weren't going to last much longer out there. And I _know_ they wouldn't have chosen to stay here of their own free will without a damned good demonstration of how vulnerable they are."

"You never thought about just introducing yourself and making the proposal?" Jake asked, getting a fork and starting to eat away his apple pie. He had read somewhere "life is short, eat dessert first", and gosh, that was such a deep truth.

For a long moment Dave just stared at his numbers. "I couldn't risk it. I couldn't risk that they would refuse, disappear even deeper… It was hard enough to find them when they didn't know I was following them… Do you seriously think I didn't consider all angles with this thing, Jake?"

Oh, but that was the problem, wasn't it? Jake didn't know what "this thing" was. And Dave was just going around and around in circles with it. No matter how directly or indirectly Jake asked, Dave was always avoiding telling him the truth.

"They would have never trusted me," Dave said, his eyes lost in some part of the wall, "they don't trust me now, but I'm a 'safe place' to stay for a while. And they know they won't last out there either. Can you seriously imagine it, Jake?" Dave suddenly asked, turning to look at Jake.

"Imagine what? Trusting you?" Jake said a little bit harshly.

"Yeah," Dave said, no hint of recognition of Jake's harsh tone anywhere, "just popping out of nowhere, a man with the 'salvation' plan. A man who knew more than anyone should know about anyone's life… Michael would have blasted me before I had finished… You know how it is, Jake. No one believes one is vulnerable until something hits you so hard that you have no illusions left. I had to take away their illusion first. I had to show them that they couldn't go on having a life."

"Okay," Jake said, staring at the same wall, "I concede that they weren't going to get very far away, but you had to take away that illusion with such strength? If they don't feel safe here, you have achieved nothing."

"Oh, I have already achieved a lot with them here. And yes, the illusion had to be taken away that fast and that harshly. It wouldn't have worked any other way. As long as they thought they still had a chance away from here, they would have refused."

_Yes, they would,_ Jake silently thought. Choices, possibilities, probabilities… All that was part of Dave's mind. "Taking every angle", as Dave had said just a minute before. And Jake knew the illusion had to be crashed if all choices had to be annihilated to leave only one: Accept and stay. And it had worked.

Now Dave was trying to take away their fear of being taken away, separated from each other down here. As long as nothing happened, they would slowly start feeling confident, trust they had made the right decision. That they could have a life. The illusion was being built again.

"Besides," Dave said, interrupting Jake's thoughts, "I trust they are in good hands with you and Ray. They made the right choice, Jake, we just have to prove it to them… we just have to…" Dave trailed off.

For a moment, Jake thought Dave was going to say something more, but it turned out it wasn't an unfinished sentence, but actually the end line. They just _had _to convince them they had made the right choice.

"Are you sure they made the right choice? Nothing else could have been better?" Jake asked Dave, not coldly, but with a genuine curiosity. Had Dave really considered all angles?

"Running away? Waiting every day to be caught? At least now that they are caught, they don't have to worry about that. Or where they are going to be tomorrow, or if they are going to see each other die…"

"You could have fixed their lives without them ever finding out about you. You could have done so much to change their lives without bringing them here… You have all the resources… You could have made a life out of nowhere, ship them to a safe place…" Jake said, contemplating for the first time what his best friend could really do, if he wanted to, that was.

"Build another illusion?" Dave said, without turning to look at Jake, without really seeing anything at all, his eyes with his characteristic lost look. "I thought about that, Jake, I did."

_And?_ Jake almost screamed at Dave when he didn't say anything else. Jake stared at him. Dave just plain ignored him. "Another life, imagine that…" Dave quietly said, more to himself than to Jake.

"Let me guess, you couldn't risk it?" Jake sarcastically said, but Dave barely smiled, his eyes still lost.

"They are here, that's what matters Jake," Dave said out of the blue, as if he were coming for a very far away land. Going to his desk to start placing puzzle pieces, he finally turned to look at Jake when he reached the desk, "and if you really can think of anything to help them feel more comfortable, don't even ask me. I gave you a white pass with all things related to them, remember? I'm sure you'll do the right thing."

Dave turned his back to him and started sorting out pieces, but something was still amiss with his friend. As if Jake had touched some cord he shouldn't have. _Another life…_ Not for the first time, Jake wondered what kind of life his best friend would have chosen for himself if he hadn't been a math whiz.

He had said to Liz that genes defined what one could become, and what one could achieve, and he wondered if Dave had wondered about that too. Maybe that was why he was getting that lost look so often every time they started talking about these kids. Maybe what Dave really wanted was to give them another life. Nothing more and nothing else.

After all, hadn't that been exactly what they had been dreaming of when they were kids? Another life? Jake considered it for a moment, and changing his tactics, he decided to go for another approach.

"Have you ever thought about changing your life, Dave? Or how our lives would be if we hadn't ended up there?"

Memories of long past years came to Jake's mind. Maybe he sympathized so much with these kids because he knew the feeling of being caged. He hadn't been literally caged just like they weren't now, but the feeling was the same. The difference too ephemeral to really matter. When being different just plain sucked.

"Why do you dwell on the past so much, Jake?" Dave asked him, turning around with his Diet Coke in one hand and a puzzle piece in the other, his head to one side and a curious look in his eyes. All trace of whatever Jake had perceived was now gone, the conversation becoming one of them and not about the kids. "Do you really believe our lives would have been all that much better? I grant you they would have been different, but better? Assuming neither your mother nor my parents had died, I doubt either of us would be alive right now. Their lives were equally dangerous for our own sake."

"You don't know that," Jake defensively said. He understood why Dave thought he wouldn't be alive. What with the line of work his parents had been in, it was a wonder Dave had survived them; but Jake's Mom was on her way to becoming a really good mother and getting rid of all those stupid boyfriends.

"No, I don't know that," Dave conceded, sighing heavily. "But that's the point, Jake. We just don't know and it doesn't matter either. _This_ is our life, and I'm pretty happy with how it is turning out so far. I don't get why you keep wondering how it all could have been." Dave looked at him with a soft expression. Still, the fact was Jake had always felt his whole childhood and adolescence had been stolen, and he, well, he just couldn't stop imagining it… Another life…

"You're right," Jake said in a small voice. Could it really be it? Dave was doing all this to give them a real chance in life? "It is pointless… But—"

"I knew there was a 'but' coming," Dave murmured with a one-sided smile. He sipped his Diet Coke; Jake just stared at him.

"For the sake of argument… What if we had never been born into these lives?" Maybe if he got an insight as to what Dave thought was a good life, he could get an insight as to what he wanted for these kids. That was, of course, if his theory about "another life" was correct.

"What about it?" Dave said, humoring his best friend. If he was sensing this was a psychological trap, he was playing along really well.

"What kind of life would you have chosen?"

"Well, I would have grown up in some quiet place, probably Ireland –nice place to read, you know- and I would have gone to London at 18. By 26 I would have already been teaching Medieval Literature in Oxford –you know, all that reading had to pay off- and by 37 –that would be now- I would have traveled the whole world and been this renowned professor. I would have probably been nominated for a Nobel Prize too; in Literature, of course." Dave said all this without even stopping to breathe and without ever dropping his eyes from Jake's.

"Really? What did you write about?" Jake asked, amused. Dave never ceased to surprise him.

"Well, about two friends who met in childhood and have to escape this big, evil, dark castle. Our real lives in medieval times, if you want, just full of these philosophical and metaphorical dialogues that you and I never seem to have… full of psychological crap," Dave ended with a full smile, a subtle way of telling him _I know what you are doing._

"And where are you living now? A castle?" Jake said laughing a little at Dave's latest comment, ignoring that his friend was not falling for it.

"No, too cold… but I do have houses in the Mediterranean, Hong Kong and Tahiti, of course." Dave said in all seriousness, as if he were truly telling the story of his life. Of this other life.

"Born to a rich family?" Jake asked arching an eyebrow.

"Nah, I would have been spoiled… Middle class people."

"How exactly did you manage to pay for college then? I mean, you're not a genius in this life. Scholarships do not apply."

"Rich aunt. I'm her only nephew," Dave answered, his eyes finally breaking eye contact and turning to look at the puzzle.

"Rich _aunt_?" Jake said incredulously, though he was loving Dave's imaginary life more than he had expected. Oh, he wasn't fooling himself, Dave had never thought about this before. He was making this up right now, just to play Jake out.

"Hey, it's my make believe life. I'll have as many rich relatives as I want," Dave said, looking over his shoulder and faking outrage.

"Okay… you are right." Jake said, trying not to laugh. But he failed, and with his laughter, Dave laughed too. It was pointless to continue this, he was going to get nothing from Dave this way, but all the same it had been a good way of smoothing things between them again. Still, Jake knew that sooner or later he would corner Dave into telling him what this was about, whether "another life" or something else.

"You know what I do wonder though, Jake?" Dave asked out of the blue, letting go his laugh. For someone who liked to smile all that much, Jake reflected for one second, Dave should laugh a lot more. Yet, Jake shook his head at Dave's question.

"What kind of life do they wish for? I think in that department you're better at knowing than me. I've never been able to understand why people can't be happy with what they are. I don't get it with you and I don't get it with them. I mean, I can imagine it, of course, but I can't really understand it."

"You've never been miserable about what you are, have you?" Jake asked, this time his eyes breaking eye contact first. Nope, Dave had always viewed his geniality as a resource and a way of life, Jake had always known that. Dave would hate the situations, and the people causing those situations, but he would never hate what he was. The sole idea was alien to him. If only Jake could feel that way half of the time.

Maybe his theory about "another life" could apply if Jake was the one behind the big scheme. But it was Dave, not him. So… What was he up to then?

----------------------------------------------------------

So, if everything was feeling okay, why was he so anxious? Max looked at his watch for the millionth time as he was leaning against the wall, waiting for Liz to come out of the elevator. It was 12:53 by now, and he was beginning to contemplate the possibility of just going up there and wait for Liz outside Dave's office. After all, when he had arrived at this spot fifteen minutes before – unaware of the fact that he had barely missed Jake entering the elevator - the elevator's doors had opened. Despite the fact that it was clear he could go up there, he had decided to wait here and now he was wondering if there was any real difference between waiting here, there or any other place. Yet maybe if he was closer to Liz he wouldn't feel so… restless. Because regardless of what everyone thought, he hated waiting, not knowing what was going on or what would happen next.

He just had learned to deal with waiting. He had learned that watching and waiting did pay off most of the time, and that, if there was nothing else to do but wait, well… complaining would solve nothing.

All the same, he did hate waiting like this, all anxious and worried and trying to pretend that everything was okay. They had been four days in this place, and so far so good, but his nerves were still as wired as the first day he had awaken in that blue room. And today's incident had just proven that.

He wasn't sure what had happened. One instant he was focused on Liz, the next the door was shattered. Granted, he had felt his energy go when that sound had brought him back to there and then, but it had also felt weird… The bad kind of weird, that was, like when he had ridden a roller coaster for the first time, feeling how his heart and soul had been left behind while his whole body was launched forward.

It had been a feeling of emptiness. So sudden and violent as the roller coaster experience had been, except that he hadn't moved. It hadn't been nice, and he certainly wasn't looking forward to more experiences of this kind. Michael and Isabel hadn't said much about it –yet- but he knew they were worried about him, and Max knew, as he had known for so long now, that losing control was a luxury he couldn't afford.

He didn't like feeling like he couldn't control himself. Back when he was a kid, the sole idea of being caught on something like that terrified him, and that had been, in part, the reason why he rarely ever "practiced". Isabel did small things all the time, making him curious about his own powers, but he was always nervous… always expecting his Mom or Dad to pop up out of nowhere and… well, he hadn't known exactly what would happen after that, but he had been sure it could never have been something nice.

Of course, _now _he knew his parents understood, but had he been caught using his powers earlier in his life, without knowing everything about Antar… would his parents have taken it like now? He knew now that if he had confided in his Mom back when that kitchen fire had happened, she wouldn't have run away from him, but he doubted that things would have been easier or safer for her or his Dad.

Gosh… were his parents okay? Part of him wanted to just charge into Dave's office demanding to know about his parents' safety, but… he would wait. Isabel's interview was tomorrow, and surely she would ask. Kyle had assumed that he wasn't allowed to ask about his Dad so he hadn't done so, and Michael hadn't said much about most of his interview, but certainly, Michael's thoughts about family were focused on the five people down here with him, not on anyone up there. But maybe Liz had managed some information about that.

Max stretched his arms in front of him, feeling tired and sleepy. He needed -desperately needed- a good night's sleep, and now they had been invited to lunch with the guys at building three, the place they were supposed to go that afternoon. And no other than Samantha herself, the analyst that supposedly had analyzed Liz's engagement ring, had been the one to deliver the invitation. He had suddenly felt cold when she had entered the Gym, not knowing what to do. It had never been made clear what exactly she knew about Max and his powers, and being around people who knew what he could do was just plain awkward.

Of course, Ray, who untill that point had been talking about a million things they would need to learn in the future in order to escape, had just gone completely silent. Samantha had ignored him to the point that someone could have believed Ray had dematerialized because of her presence, leaving all five of them feeling a little uncomfortable in that room.

Because Samantha had arrived around 12:00, they had all gone to shower and change at that hour. They had been expecting Liz to be waiting at the Cafeteria, which was on route to building 3, the place where physics and engineering were. But Liz had been nowhere by 12:30, nor by 12:40, and Max had just been plain worried about the meaning of that. So, while the other four had gone with Samantha for lunch, he had stayed behind to wait for his wife. The analyst had suggested he just send a message via her G.E.S. –what was the big deal, anyway?- but Max had just said no, and now here he was, waiting.

The other thing he didn't like about waiting was that it gave him too much time to think. God knew he had a million things to fret about and he certainly did not need the extra time to think of what could have been or should have been. But… he couldn't stop himself. He now had a headache, or a slight headache… or something along that, he wasn't sure. He was mentally exhausted for focusing too much and for too long on Liz's feelings, which were telling him that she was, indeed, fine. But if Liz didn't hurry, his anxiousness was going to eat him away…

As if answering his prayers, the light on the elevator came to life, indicating that someone was coming down. Liz. His bond with her felt a little bit stronger, not because Liz was getting nearer, but because she was thinking about him. All day long he hadn't felt anything outrageous, but his wife had been going on a small roller coaster of emotions herself, being surprised, frustrated, confused and even… well… guilty. And now she was focusing on him to let him know, for the millionth time, that she was okay.

It felt great. Just like losing control had felt empty, feeling Liz made him feel complete. When he had seen her that first day on the playground so many years ago, something inside of him had come alive. When the elevator's doors opened with Liz inside, that something just burst in his heart.

She smiled at him, slightly surprised to see him there, and walked right into his waiting arms without a word. Relief swept through his body, making him warm. The world was all right again now that Liz was in his arms.

"Hey," he said as he hugged her in welcome, "you took a while…" he half whispered over her head.

"Yeah, but I got to meet Jake," Liz said letting go of his embrace, Max not knowing what to make of that information.

"What was Jake doing up there?" he said, frowning.

"He thought I was already down here, so we sort of bumped into each other outside Dave's office. We had a little chat, that's why I got delayed," Liz said, smiling a little, as if apologizing for being down at this hour.

"He said something…"

"About 10 o'clock?" Liz finished for him, making him blush. He wasn't looking forward to explaining to Liz that he had lost his control. That was just not good news at all… but apparently she already knew all about it. "No, only that you would tell me at lunch. But I felt it…" Liz said, hugging him sideways as they both started to walk. "He did say some weird stuff though… about apologizing… Wanna tell me what that was all about?"

"Sure…" Max said, a little bit reluctant. "But first things first. Everything went okay with you? Nothing out of the ordinary?"

As Max had done a minute before, Liz reluctantly answered, "It was okay, I guess. There's a lot we have to discuss too… But gosh, that man knows how to keep you going in circles endlessly!" she said, exasperated. Max smiled at her. He wasn't looking forward to his own interview, but seeing that the love of his life was pouting always made him smile. He felt his muscles relax a little. Things had gone okay.

Then Liz stopped in her tracks.

"But Max," she suddenly said, turning to see him, "you know those changes we thought were gone? I think they are coming back…"

And Max went cold inside.

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Author's Note: The quote "life is short, eat dessert first" was originally said by someone at www . Fanforum . com at the Roswell boards. I can't remember who, but thanks to everyone who has inspirational quotes ;) Now, I've been searching for the original author, and apparently, that would be Ogden Nash, but I'm really not sure.


	19. Hidden Truths

Thanks for coming back to read!! Um... I've written so far 26 chapters (out of 35 that are planned in my pretty mind :) ) so I'm going to start spacing them more before you guys catch up with me... Trust me, you don't want to catch up with me... But the story is being written -and it's all planned from beginning to end- so, though it might take a bit of time, you'll get the whole thing sooner or later ;)**  
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Thanks for all the reviews as well!!!! They're awesome!!

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XIX  
Hidden Truths**

When should he tell them? Kyle watched his hand, flexing his fingers, expecting –but not hoping- to see green sparks come alive again, like he had seen less than an hour ago when he had been changing for lunch. Granted, they had been nothing more than a couple of tiny bitty green sparks, but he had seen them. No questions there this time around about static, or anything else. He didn't understand it, though. Liz's trip into the World of Sparking Green had lasted about a month or so. And then, nothing. Away from Max and later coming back, she had stopped sparking and everyone had thought that had been the end of it.

So, if his trial period had already passed, why had he sparked on Monday morning –assuming that hadn't been his imagination- and again today?

Well, maybe he wasn't seeing the big picture. Liz _had_ made one last trip into Sparking Green when Tess had arrived last year. Heck, not only had she sparked, she had sent Tess flying across a room, something that Isabel later told him was actually a hard thing to do, especially for "beginners".

And _then_ Liz had had her first vision. Her power didn't involve anything green related, which had been promising for Kyle who really was dreading a trip into the spooky-and-not-welcome Sparking Green World.

He tried to smile at that notion, and failed. Gosh, not even his attempt at humor was making him feel better.

Kyle was waiting in the corridor so he might have the chance to tell Max –and Liz- privately about it, and then tell the rest of the group. He had to tell them that there was a good chance that keeping his "changes" secret might not happen at all. And if Dave, Jake, or anyone else found out about the side effect of being healed by Max, then not only would Kyle himself and Liz be in trouble, but Max would never see daylight again.

Not that they were seeing much of daylight anyway, Kyle grimly thought as he waited for his two friends. Earlier that day, when they had all been at the Gym, Samantha had come by to invite them to lunch with "the guys down there".

Today was their wishing-I-wasn't-there visit to Engineering, and by the sounds of it, Samantha knew everyone in there pretty well and had insisted the only way they were going to get the right feeling of the place was at lunch.

"_Besides," she had said, "we are hoping for some new blood since our last new guys went away last week."_

They all had looked blank. Didn't Samantha know that they had no clue about engineering or physics or any of that stuff? That they had barely graduated from high school? Of course Dave had said he should get a look, that maybe he could find something to do down there, but… well, Kyle didn't really know what to expect.

A career in Engineering? Well, if he didn't fry anything with his newly found electricity, it sounded… intriguing. He couldn't claim he had had a real dream about his future back in school. He had always known that being part of the Houston Astro's team was a nice dream at best, but not something that would work in the long run.

He had started working at Toby's out of need, and hadn't really liked it much until the idea of actually being a business partner had occurred to him. He had been thinking about that for a week before popping the question, and he had to admit that that week hadn't completely sucked –except for those septic lines that he so not wished to remember- because he had seen a real future there.

To be honest, Kyle reflected while staring at nothing in particular on the wall in front of him, he had rarely considered an actual career in college in his last two years of school. So, really, what was he going to do "down there"?

Before he could even try to answer that question, there was the problem of his powers. What would happen to him if someone in this place found out about the fact that he had been changed? He suddenly felt claustrophobic. And if this was just an imaginary feeling for a possible problem, how could Max, Isabel and Michael deal with this kind of stress? No wonder Max had lost it at the Lab.

And then again… what if there was a real possibility here? A real future? "Kyle Valenti, Engineer". Kyle smiled to himself at the prospect. Wouldn't that make his father proud, uh? And it did sound promising assuming this whole deal was true. Gosh, getting a degree? It was as exciting as it was scary. Besides, his grades in Math and Physics had been anything but outstanding, really… So, why was he attempting to dream it?

He didn't want to plan a future just to see it crumble, he somberly reflected. He had left home for the unknown, and frankly, things had changed little. This place was still unknown to them. And what if in the end he was let free just to find out that Max, Michael and Isabel were trapped here?

Flexing his fingers again, Kyle thought that maybe special powers wouldn't be that bad if it meant protecting the ones he cared about. If he could stay in the middle of them and the things that could happen to them… and for the second time in those five minutes, Kyle got a really good glimpse of what it felt like to be one of them. Not only the experience of fear of these walls, but the responsibility for other people's lives as well.

As his watch read 1:03, Kyle finally saw Max and Liz turning the corner, their feet making no sound. They looked just as tense as he felt himself.

He didn't need to see to know that a spark had briefly formed in his right hand at the sight of them. If Max _and_ Liz looked like that it couldn't mean good news. And so, the need to tell them about his sparks evaporated instantly, efficiently making him to shut his mouth and not say a word.

------------------------------------------

He had never –ever- seen a more beautiful thing in his life. Gosh, not even when his hockey team had won the championship had Michael been so euphoric at the sight of something.

Aerodynamic, chromo-like exterior, smooth to the eye and touch, the motorcycle in front of him was the most astonishing piece of work on two wheels that anyone could ask for. In fact, calling it a "motorcycle" was just a crime. And Erick, the thirty-something guy that had greeted them when they had arrived some ten minutes before, was just finishing telling them –Maria, Isabel and himself- why it was a crime to think of this brilliant piece of engineering as a "motorcycle". Isabel looked unimpressed, Maria just plain bored. But Michael –and Erick- were in heaven.

"Oh, it was such luck to assemble it too, not just design it," Erick was saying, a huge grin on his face as his eyes practically gleamed at the sight of his work.

"Any chance you could assemble one for me?" Michael absently said as he was getting a feel of the handle. He liked bikes, wasn't a maniac about them exactly, but knew a good thing when he saw one. And this baby could very well say, "I belong to the twenty-first century".

"Hm… I'm not sure," Erick answered, "It's a birthday present."

"Dave's?" Isabel immediately asked, for the first time really interested in the conversation.

Erick seemed surprised for a second and, whispering, he said: "Dave sent me a letter himself to work on this project. I don't know who is going to receive it, but I would surely love to be that someone."

So, Dave sent presents? Or was it for himself?

If it was a present for someone else, that would mean Dave had people that he cared about. But then again, it could be something for some other stupid deal for all he knew. And then again, if it was for him, well… the man had great taste; Michael couldn't deny that.

"So, has he come to see it yet?" Maria asked, also taking a sudden interest in their conversation.

Erick laughed. "Sure…," he sarcastically said as Samantha was coming back with Kyle, Max and Liz at the far end of the immense space they were in now. Like a warehouse with a close roof. "You are like all newbies are, thinking Dave himself is here," Erick cheerfully continued, "and even if he was here—"

"No one would believe it," Michael finished for him with a smirk. It was quite amazing that everyone thought it so funny that Dave was, in fact, right beside them. And it also pissed Michael off that Dave had calculated it so damned well, with such detail.

There was just no way to tell these people who Dave was. Or more likely, what he looked like, what he wanted, or anything related to him besides what they already knew. This reminded him of that Jeremy guy that had come into Kyle's apartment on Sunday morning… He had babbled about Dave, hadn't he? If only he could find that Net Geek guy… He had asked the Network Keepers just yesterday what it took to be one of them, but his time was still not his own. He couldn't go snooping around that "Base" until next week. First, he had to finish the damn schedule, so Dave wouldn't get suspicious as to why Michael was scooping around places where he shouldn't be yet.

Michael let go of these thoughts –momentarily- as Max and Kyle came to a halt in front of Dave's present. Isabel rolled her eyes as Kyle started to inspect it. Max appreciated it from a distance as Maria met with Liz some ten feet away, embracing her best friend. And Liz… Liz was staring right at him.

As Max finally approached the motorcycle and Isabel said something under her breath about men and things with wheels, Liz disentangled herself from Maria as the blond girl kept talking to Erick. But something odd happened: Liz walked towards Michael, trying to do so casually.

Michael slightly frowned. Why would Liz be approaching him like that? And then he remembered. He scowled at her. She narrowed her eyes. For a second she reminded him of Max when he wouldn't let the matter drop.

Passing by him, Liz kept walking to the corner where a small coffee maker machine, some glasses, and a huge water container were kept.

"Want some?" she barely whispered as she passed him by. Michael followed her as Maria and Isabel kept asking Erick about Dave's letter. Erick was cheerfully answering whatever questions he could just for the fact that they were wearing White Cards. One thing was for sure, Michael thought as he walked behind Liz, having White Cards did impress people down here, so they were more ready to talk about anything since the group already had "Level 6 clearance".

Liz went for the water container, Michael for the glasses.

"Why didn't you say something about the window?" Liz asked, barely looking at him as he passed her the glass. She wasn't angry exactly, but more likely frustrated.

"Are you nuts?" Michael said, whispering as well. "What do you think Max would have done if I had told him I shattered one of Dave's windows? He would have freaked out more than he already did!"

Liz stopped the glass she was going to fill with water in mid air. "What did he do?" she asked, letting go of her frustration a little, briefly closing her eyes.

"He didn't tell you?" Michael said, taken aback.

"He didn't have time to," Liz said, glancing at Max, frowning. What was worrying Liz so much?

"Well, he did a hell of a lot more than I did. He shattered a glass door down at the lab," Michael said, and seeing Liz's eyes widening, he amended, "he got startled by a loud noise. It was an accident." Michael paused as Liz bit her lip. "I can't believe Dave told you," he darkly added.

"He didn't tell me exactly," Liz absently said as Michael passed her another glass and she started to fill it up. "The glass was shattered and he said it was a reminder to not piss you off. He seemed to take it pretty seriously, though. He also said he wouldn't change it 'til Max had been there."

Liz placed the glass on the table and turned to look at Michael. "You should have told us, Michael."

There was something comical in that moment, Michael briefly thought, because two years ago he wouldn't have bothered trying to explain to Liz the motives behind his actions. He wouldn't have bothered telling much to anyone, for that matter. But when you were being hunted for seven months straight, on the road, and being separated most of the time, you sort of learned to share things so others would know how you'd most likely react in future occasions. You learned to keep everyone in the loop, which had been exactly what he hadn't done.

"I was planning to," Michael said defensively, "I just thought he would have replaced it by the time you got there." Liz gave him an unconvinced look; that was certainly no explanation. "Listen," Michael said, dropping the defensive tone "Max was way too scared of something happening to you, especially with the whole sweater business. I knew I had to tell him, but yesterday was not the time, and neither was this morning. He's too tense," Michael ended half annoyed, half frustrated at this whole situation. He knew keeping things from Max and the others was one of the worst things he could do, but Liz saw, just as he had seen, that there was nothing to gain by telling Max something that couldn't be taken back.

If Max had been asked, he would have argued the case. But he was too busy with Kyle and Erick and the girls to pay any attention to what Liz and Michael were discussing.

"I know…" Liz said, glancing back at Max. "I might… I should've kept something to myself as well today," Liz said, and then, amending herself, "for a little while, I mean…"

Michael arched his eyebrows. How uncharacteristic of Liz to admit that telling the truth was not always the best way of dealing with Max. Not that Michael had lied, he had just postponed the bit about _telling_. Still, Michael didn't say anything at that, knowing that whatever Liz was referring to, he would get to know later that night.

Liz sighed in frustration as a lock of hair loosely fell in front of her eyes. She put it behind her ear as she was filling the second glass and the lock fell again. Michael had seen that a thousand times and knew how much it pissed her off. It reminded him of Max when he got frustrated by little things too. Actually, there was a lot about Liz that reminded him of Max.

For all the differences between Max and Michael, they loved each other as brothers did. Once Michael had found that he was not alone when he was a child, he had taken a special secret vow, secret even to him, that he would protect Max and Isabel whatever it took. Somehow, Max had gotten a big brother aura around him, and when Michael had gotten to see, years later, that even big brothers were as flawed as everyone else, Michael had had to re-adjust his vision of Max. To accept Max as he was, as Max had accepted him as well. It hadn't been easy, but it hadn't been impossible either.

That vision had had to change once more when the brunette that was beside him had entered their lives, changing Max's life directly and Michael's indirectly. Now, to say that Michael had _accepted_ Liz would have been more than just a little bit of a stretch. Michael had grown to _tolerate_ Liz for Max's sake, and because Michael valued Max and his opinions too much to go against it. And through everything they had had to endure because Max had saved Liz, Michael had had to remind himself that, even if it sucked, Max was in love with the girl. Period. And Michael had swallowed it –hard- because no matter what he had said to Max, what was done was done. Then, along came Maria. And he had fallen in love with her. Period. It had given him a new perspective as to why Max had saved Liz.

Michael passed Liz a fourth glass and wondered if the others were thirsty enough. Liz had a lot on her mind so she was busying herself with that little task. They both kept silent and Michael felt a little awkward standing there, watching the girl tuck that loose lock away for the hundreth time. He was tempted to offer his powers to glue it or something behind her ear, but he let it pass.

Liz and Maria had a friendship like his and Max's, Michael had reflected ages ago. They were so different, but they valued each other as real sisters would have. The odd thing was that Max and Maria seem to tag along way better than Michael and Liz did. But that was one of those mysteries that didn't make him stay awake at night.

As time had passed, Michael's tolerance had gained a tinge of… respect. For all the things that had irked him about Liz, she had gotten them out of trouble on more than just one occasion. She knew her science, that was for sure, and her logical approach to things had helped them too. Michael had learned then to count on Liz. And once Liz had gotten her powers, he had learned to trust Liz with his life.

The thing was, Michael thought as he watched Liz filling the fifth glass in a row, that even if they wouldn't call themselves friends as in the real sense of the word, they would certainly call themselves teammates. For all their differences they both belong to this group, and they both had silently agreed to, well, tolerate each other, and to get along. Maybe Liz didn't vibrate at the same frequency that Maria and he did, but they had learned to harmonize on a somewhat strange song. Strange enough for him to sense Liz's distress at what she was thinking, and vibrating just well enough for them to keep a companionable conversation. At least for a little while.

"How did it go?" Michael finally asked her. It was just that, if the glasses were any indication, the interview hadn't gone as well as it should have.

"Fine… frustrating," Liz said, sighing, taking a sip of water now that there were no more glasses to fill. Michael gave her half a smile.

"I know exactly what you mean…"

"He makes you feel like… like…" Liz said trying to find the right words.

"Like breaking a window?" Michael elaborated. Liz glared at him, but she dissolved it into a small smile. They both turned to look at Max.

"Maybe he'll break the whole thing, not just one piece," Michael said, wondering out loud. "I mean, after a glass door…"

"What did Jake say about that?" Liz asked, diverting his attention from a very vivid image of Max breaking Dave's entire window. Maybe Michael should have aimed for something bigger as well…

"Freaked out about us being tense and gave us the rest of the week free… for a moment we just didn't believe it." Michael leaned against the table, crossing his arms. Liz was about to say something when Samantha called them in.

"So, want the grand tour?"

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What an interesting bunch, Samantha silently thought as they were all finishing dessert. "All" meaning the six teens, the eight engineers, two designers and four physicists that were now working in this section. All their cards were green, except for the teens', her brother's, and hers, which were white.

That was the best part of this project: The White Cards. She could go wherever she wanted in this place and that was a feeling she loved. She had always been a curious girl and the thought of closed doors had never been a good one. Too many secrets were already in this place to make her anxious, but the thought of closed doors made her eat her nails.

"_That's why I didn't tell you a thing," her brother had said when she had been admitted into the project, "Samantha, you would hate it there! You've never been good at ignoring other people's secrets."_

"_Oh, please William. That doesn't mean that I can't keep secrets," she had defended herself._

And it was true too. Which was exactly why she had been admitted in the first place: She knew how to keep her mouth shut. And boy, this project definitely needed her to keep it shut. Psychic powers… who would have guessed, uh?

She had laughed, really laughed at Dave and Ray when they had first debriefed her two months ago. They had been in Dave's private living room above ground, the three of them alone.

"_You are kidding right? There is no such thing as psychic powers…" They had remained silent. She had stopped laughing. "I mean, all this secrecy, and… come on, this is a Level Six project! It can't be about researching psychic powers. Why would you want to keep that secret?_

She had a point there: There were a number of other people researching just that world wide. It wasn't a big secret and all. Science still considered it improbable, and most scientists would add impossible as well. Granted, the military in some countries had tried taking advantage of it, but it had all proven not to be all that accurate to begin with, or useful. But that aside, the field itself hardly would qualify as a Level Six project. Level Five at best… Or maybe Level Six projects weren't all that exciting, she had thought for a second, maybe they were over-rated.

Except that a person who could alter molecular structures at will was hardly an over-rated project. Dave had scouted for five months looking for as many diamonds as he could get that Max had potentially made. He had invested a small fortune in that too, as far as she had calculated. And each diamond the dark-haired boy sitting in front of her had transformed had been a very interesting piece of work.

All diamonds in general could be catalogued according to characteristics such as brilliance, shape, size, color and how many irregularities, inclusions or air bubbles it had inside. She had read a lot about that in order to be able to identify Max's diamonds from all other diamonds. His had been a little bit off at the beginning; they weren't the best color, nor they had the best transparency or the right shape, but what was outstanding was the near absence of inclusions or air bubbles inside. Still, over the months, they hadn't improved much. They all had the same "mistakes", or more likely, the same quality. Maybe Max didn't know about brilliance, color and transparency when it came to diamonds.

So, when she had been given Liz's engagement ring, she had been surprised. It was, simply put, a perfect diamond.

"_But why would it be perfect?" Dave had asked Jake when she had presented her report six days ago. "It is reasonable to believe that was the first one, or at least one of the first ones. Why would he not make the others the same way?"_

_Jake had stared at the ring for a second._

"_Maybe it has to do with the moment," Jake had absently said. Both she and Dave had stared at him. "What he was thinking when he made this one, you know? He was going to ask a girl to marry him. He wanted it perfect. I don't think he gave much of a thought to all the others."_

"_His heart wasn't in it, uh?" Dave had ventured, staring at the engagement ring._

Jake's theory was still just that: A theory. She didn't know what to believe herself about this. It wasn't a hoax, that much she knew, or Dave wouldn't have risked so much to bring these people here. But why hadn't they gone to someone else? Why had Dave taken so many precautions, and require everyone involved with these kids to have Level Six clearance?

That had led her to the very obvious question: What else could they do? She was dying to know because she knew for a fact that all the diamonds she had analyzed were Max's and she also knew that Michael and Isabel were in the project.

When she had met them last Sunday she hadn't been sure of what to expect. Some sort of magician-looking kids, maybe? And she had been tempted to ask for a little trick, just to finally know that Dave's –and Ray's- words had not been a joke. But how exactly could one ask "Hey, can you change this carbon coil into a diamond? I'm just curious about it?" Not really… she had guessed she would have to wait for Jake to make the proper introductions at the Lab…

Maria and Liz were joking with the two designers about desserts, while Kyle was talking to Erick about the "fabulous" motorcycle Erick had been working on for the last month. Max, Michael and Isabel had disappeared a minute before with Andrea, the head of engineering, probably so she could show them some new project.

How absurd it all seemed to her for an instant. They were kids! Of course Dave had told her that, though he had barely said much about them at all. But to know that and to see that were two very different things. Everyone in here seemed to believe they just _looked_ young, not that they were barely grasping their 20th birthdays.

She had just kept the fact to herself. If the kids wanted to say anything about themselves to anyone else, that was their problem, but she was not going to screw up her level six clearance just because she felt like chatting with her co-workers. Not that there were too many people working with her on molecular projects to begin with, but still...

Whatever. None of it mattered now. She just couldn't wait to start. Whatever they were going to do –Jake, the kids and herself- was going to be ground-breaking territory. No one, anywhere, would be researching the same as she, and that was enough to make her eyes sparkle.

She wasn't fooling herself. It would be years before she could go public with any of it, but it didn't matter to her. She was a very patient woman. She just loved to be, well, special, unique, and she was certain that working with these very unique kids was going to be very special indeed.

The question now was _when_ was she going to start working with them? Now that Max was here, Dave was not going to keep hunting for any more diamonds, and Jake had left unclear when was he going to ask for her expertise in analyzing molecular structures.

She had talked to Jake around 11:00 a.m. this morning only to learn that he now thought they might have to wait more than a month to start working together.

"_What? Why?" she had asked over her cell phone, not exactly yelling, but loud enough to turn heads all around her._

"_I want to take it slow," Jake had answered sounding a little bit annoyed, though she hadn't known why._

"_Didn't Dave say he wanted them working right away?" she had asked, confused._

"_Well, contrary to public opinion, he's not as a brilliant as he appears to be."_

So now she had to wait longer. For the past two months she had wondered and wondered time and time again what kind of kids they were. Oh, what would she have done had she been able to turn carbon coils into diamonds? She returned her emerald eyes to the two girls in front of her. What would she do if she were married to someone who could turn carbon coils into diamonds? Now there was a thought…

She was just puzzled, and she didn't like puzzles. Hated them, actually. But she was going to be patient. Whatever hidden truths these kids, Dave, or Jake kept, the possibilities implied by this whole project were just too important to allow curiosity to get the better of her.

---------------------------------

"You," Ray said, opening his front door and raising a finger to the man in front of him; his eyes narrowed as a sign of disgust. "You sent them to me after everything I said this morning? After the fact that I told you exactly what I thought about Max being tense because Liz was with Dave?"

Jake stood in the hall, a tired expression on his face. "Come on Ray, you are still in one piece. It couldn't have been that bad."

Ray could have said a million things to that, but he didn't. Jake didn't look like joking in their usual way of sarcasm over sarcasm, so Ray only moved aside to let Jake in.

"What have we gotten ourselves into?" Jake asked, making a beeline for the fridge. How could Jake eat so much, do no exercise at all, and still not be a 250 pound guy?

Puzzled far more by Jake's words than his eating habits, Ray stared at Jake, waiting for an explanation. The slightly red-haired doctor emerged from the fridge with a left over slice of pizza and orange juice.

"I mean, what is Dave playing this time? He has too much invested in this whole thing and he hasn't told me half of it," Jake said, placing a glass and a plate on the counter.

"What makes you believe he's told _me_ more than he's told you?" Ray asked, grabbing the remote control and freezing the hockey game he had been watching in his living room just moments ago. Because Dave was sleeping at this hour of the day, and Ray was stuck at midday revising the new security systems –which were updated every three months- he had at least until six before talking to Dave. So, this was his free time, and now he had Jake in his kitchen in total conspiracy mode. Would wonders ever cease…

"He must have told you things he didn't tell me, and vice versa," Jake absently said, pouring the orange juice out of its container.

"Jake," Ray said, coming to the other side of the counter, "What is it with you and all this sudden interest in Dave's plan?"

Jake stared at him, "You are okay with all of this?"

"_You_ were okay with all of this last week, if I remember correctly. You were the one who developed the sedative gas if I'm also allowed to say," Ray pointed out.

"That was because your plan wouldn't have worked otherwise," Jake answered back, annoyed. "And it was going to be too dangerous for them if we had used any other type of sedative."

"I didn't hear you complaining then, nor coming up with another plan. And you did know what we were doing, Jake."

"I thought I knew, but now I'm not so sure…" Jake almost whispered. For one instant Ray really resented having missed two of Jake's and Dave's sessions. Sure, the security systems were better than ever now –and Dave had insisted that he looked upon those ASAP- but maybe if he had been there, he would now understand what was going on with Jake.

"What's up with you trying to find fault with Dave?"

Jake opened his mouth just to close it again. His eyes were uneasy as he was trying to say whatever he was thinking. Ray waited. It was so unusual to see Jake like this, doubting his friend's plans, that Ray wasn't sure if it was good or not. It made Ray feel cautious all of the sudden around Dave's best friend.

"Why—what do you think Dave wants from them?"

"_Why do you want them in here, anyway?" Ray had asked Dave the first night the kids had been here, when the offer had been made and they had left. "How do you plan on using their abilities?"_

"_I have many, many ways in which their skills can be useful to me, I won't deny that, but it is much more than that, Ray." Dave had answered as if he were thinking something very important. "I just hope for our own sakes that they say yes. There is just way too much at stake here. But nothing will work if they are not here willingly," he had enigmatically concluded._

Ray hadn't told anyone about that insight into Dave's plan, but the words had stuck in his head. Still, Jake was waiting for an answer.

"Honestly, I don't know. But it is important, that much I do know," Ray answered, thinking that was just about the lamest answer he had ever given.

"That doesn't say much, Ray," Jake said, sipping his orange juice. "When you were first presented with the project, what did you think?"

Ray smiled. That was another memory he would never forget. "That it was only natural that it was Dave who found aliens on this planet. He has a talent for finding the weirdest stuff."

Jake smiled at that. "Yeah… only natural… Anything else besides that? What was the debriefing like?"

"_Aliens? Really Dave?" Ray had asked, arching one eyebrow over a bunch of documents he was now starting to look at. Some were from something about a radio telescope checking, some were from a genetics lab, and one was from a report on some Phoenix hospital._

_He was sure there was a relationship among all those reports, he only had to sit down a couple of minutes and see it through. Dave waited those minutes until Ray had finally looked up and repeated himself: "Aliens?"_

_Dave had smiled. He had been excited, Ray had been able to tell, but he had also been cautious. "What do you want to do with aliens?" Ray had asked, laughing a little. At that point, he still hadn't believed it._

"_That's the question, you see. I'm not sure what to do with this information," Dave had said, looking at the papers in Ray's hands, all serious now._

"_How long have you known?" Ray had asked, starting to believe that Dave was not kidding._

"_Confirmation of their identities," Dave had said, opening a folder in front of him and handing Ray a surveillance camera picture, "came yesterday. I've been up all night wondering what to do. There's nothing out of the ordinary about their lives at first sight," Dave had ended, standing up and starting to pace, a habit certainly picked up from Jake._

"_So, you want me to go and check them out?" Ray had asked. He had never been a fan of science fiction and, until that day, had thought the idea of alien life-forms on Earth was just ridiculous. He was still not convinced and was waiting for Dave to start laughing, but somehow he knew Dave did believe his information was right._

"_I don't like entering the lion's den just because I feel curious about the lion," Dave had absently said. "Tell me Ray, if you were an alien living among a very dangerous species, would you go unguarded? Without a plan to defend yourself? Especially if your intentions might not be completely honorable?"_

"_Of course not," Ray had smiled. A cover up operation, an infiltration operation would certainly not be much different._

"_Exactly."_

"_Then, what do you want? Check the lion's cave first?" Ray had said, frowning._

"_Yeah, but do so very cautiously. I don't want anybody getting suspicious. I might not be the only one behind those kids, if kids they are, and I certainly don't want to tip anyone off about us knowing their little secret."_

"_But Dave, if they are dangerous, what are you going to do?" Ray had wondered, for the first time really wondered, what could it all mean? An alien invasion? It sounded so laughable, but still…_

"_You see Ray, that's what I've been wondering all night. If you were an invader, and had to hide whatever the case, would you go to a very public place, like a hospital, and heal your very human boss's daughter and four other children?"_

_The Phoenix report had still been in front of Ray's eyes. "You think we might get ourselves a deserter? A traitor to its cause?"_

"_I'm saying that you better get me good information about that cave, because this lion could turn out to be anything, Ray."_

"So I gathered up a team," Ray was saying now to Jake, "and we started to slowly infiltrate Roswell, New Mexico. Dave was very intrigued by their actions, because frankly, things didn't quite add up from our point of view. It took us a while to see who was alien and who wasn't and how many people were involved in the secret. But we got to see that not much of an alien invasion was going on…"

"He didn't send his Messengers?" Jake absently asked just before taking another sip from his orange juice. Ray mentally chuckled. As if Dave would spare his Messengers on a recognition mission…

"No, not in the beginning. He did so when he was preparing the rooms, of course, where they woke up. But that was just 'til the end of the game."

"So Dave just told you to keep watching?" Jake asked, half through his cold pizza slice now, his eyes narrowing.

"Well… yeah… though…" Ray trailed off.

"Though what?" Jake pressed.

"Though there was something odd taking place," Ray said. "Dave became sort of obsessed with details."

"Dave _is _an obsessive person," Jake said smiling a little. "You know that."

"Yes, I do," Ray said a little bit annoyed at being patronized, "but I mean, I've been working with him for eight years, Jake, this was different. I don't know; he went to Japan for a week about a month after we started watching, and when he returned he had all these ideas of how to get information about them. It was as if he couldn't get enough, but… It was always all about the cave, and not the lion, if you like. He practically implied that we couldn't approach Max, Michael or Isabel up close and personal. He was very serious about that."

"So, he discovered something he hadn't known before in that trip…" Jake said out loud, his pizza and orange juice forgotten.

"I don't know," Ray truthfully said, "with Dave, it could have been the movie he was watching on the way home that sparked his imagination. But if you are looking for a very odd thing, he certainly must've gotten to see a very weird movie when the kids disappeared after their high-school graduation. That's when all the madness really began. That's when the project here began."

"Yes, that's when he approached me," Jake said, thoughtful.

"Suddenly he realized he wanted them here," Ray said, for the first time feeling a little bit guilty for revealing all these details. Dave had been so adamant about the secrecy of it all. But it still puzzled Ray. Why had Dave so drastically changed from only watching to bringing them here? And it had been practically over night.

"Something else changed then," Jake said more to himself than to Ray, his eyes lost in a point on the wall. "But what? Did he ever mention—"

"Not a word," Ray cut Jake off, "believe me I have been waiting for an explanation for months now, and nothing. But whatever he wants, Jake, he's terribly afraid that something will happen to those kids. That's why I'm not doubting his plan, you see? I know how much he has done to get to this point. And I trust him to be doing the right thing."

"Yeah, but what the hell is the right thing, Ray?" Jake impatiently said. "What is Dave trying to do with them? And if it is such an honorable cause, as you put it, why is he also hiding it from us?"

And to that Ray had no answer to give.

_TBC…_


	20. Perception

This place finally works!! woho!! Anyway, thanks to all for your reviews and for coming back to read :) Let's keep going with the story now :D

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**XX**

**Perception**

"What exactly is he going to know if he gets the book translated?" Maria asked, letting herself fall onto Michael's couch. The six of them looked just like she felt: Tired of waiting for the worst to happen.

"Nothing specifically about each of us and our powers," Max said, reaching out for Liz's hand, who was now returning from the kitchen with two Cherry Cokes, one for her and one for her husband. The two love birds didn't look all cozy-cozy tonight, though.

"The book does explain about our powers, but it doesn't go into details as to which one we would specifically get. It even implied we could start developing some other unforeseen special abilities." Max explained, his voice sounding tired. They all certainly needed a good night's sleep and Maria wondered if that was ever going to happen inside these walls.

"No wonder you didn't find anything about Liz's changes then," Kyle said, leaning against the wall that divided the kitchen from the living room, "It was all pretty vague…"

"So, it doesn't screw up our plan, right?" Maria said, feeling a little less tense. "I mean, if he gets to read the whole book…"

"No, but it's still no good," Michael angrily said, pacing back and forth, as if someone in that room were guilty of Dave having the book in the first place. "It gives him something to compare us with."

"A scale of some sort," Isabel elaborated, sighing, "It gives him expectations about us. We cannot pretend that we don't, or won't have them for too long... He'll expect us to be like the book says."

"Oh, come on!" Maria said, a little bit annoyed. "The only power you guys have to worry about him finding out is that Isabel is the one able to dreamwalk, right? And we already took care of that by saying it was Tess' ability." No one made a move to interrupt her, so she continued, "And the only other problem we have is Dave finding out what Max's healing side effect is, and of that we already know nothing is said."

Max looked at her from his seat in front of her, a look of "yes, but…"

"So, why are we worrying about this?" she asked the group. Really, they had covered their backs on that one, so this was no big deal. What was the big fuss about?

"You know, when you put it that way…" Kyle said.

"He still has the book," Michael sort of grunted, still annoyed.

"Yes, but there's nothing in there to really worry about," Maria repeated again. "Everything important in that book he already knows, or we have already taken care of." Czechoslovakians loved to worry, Maria knew, but they had enough to worry about already, gees…

"There's one more thing," Liz said, breaking the momentary silence that had settled in. "My powers might be coming back."

"Are you sure?" Kyle asked in a worried tone, making everyone turn and look at him. Kyle had been a little bit jumpy all afternoon long, Maria noted, but she hadn't thought much of it. Sure enough, they all were a little jumpy right now.

"What do you mean 'might'?" Michael asked, the attention returning to Liz.

"I had…" Liz hesitated, "I had a dream that sort of became real."

"A dream?"

"Sort of?" Isabel and Michael said at the same time. Liz just looked plain uncomfortable at the two aliens' stares. Max took hold of her hand in a protective way.

"Yeah, I dreamt that Dave was shredding a napkin, and he told me today that he does that, in real life. He shreds napkins and puts them together as if they were puzzles, just like I dreamt."

Michael looked skeptical, but Isabel spoke before he had a chance.

"I don't know, Liz, that seems a little… unusual, okay, but it isn't one of your usual premonitions," Isabel pointed out, in a reassuring tone, as if she were afraid Liz would get mad at her for not believing her words.

"I know it sounds lame guys, but it somehow seems too odd of a thing for it to just be a coincidence…"

"It doesn't mean that you're getting your powers back either," Michael sort of snapped, resigned, disappointed even. Before either Max or Maria could say anything to Michael, Liz rose to her own defense.

"No, it's not the usual way, like Isabel said, but maybe I'll get… I don't know, some sort of flashes in my dreams. That's a very common way of having premonitions, I mean, dozens of people say they have dreamt things that later happened," Liz ended, trying to sound logical and solid. How could Liz do that even when the subject was psychic powers?

"She's right," Max said, though he looked like he hated saying that.

"I don't know, Max, dreams can be very confusing," Isabel said, "There are a million ways you can interpret one single thing."

The tall blond looked apologetically at Liz. But Maria knew that, after all, Isabel was their resident expert on dreams and meanings.

"Well, whatever," Maria finally interceded. "If it means nothing, we are where we are right now, nothing has changed. And if your powers are coming back it can only mean good things, right? We could get to know stuff beforehand and all that."

Liz turned to look at Max, who barely said, "If they are coming back, the chances increase that they will find out. It's better if her powers don't return, because Liz could easily go under their radar."

"Yes, but Maria is right," Michael said, finally sitting beside her, passing his arm behind her back, "it would give us a hell of an advantage over Dave."

"What else did you get to know?" Maria asked, so they could move onto something less depressing. She knew Liz still felt guilty for losing that ability, which had been the biggest reason they had been caught in the first place. Still, Max was right: If she had no powers, then no one could get to know a thing about her changes. And that was good news big time.

Liz sighed and, closing her eyes for a moment, went on. "He said that he intends to let us talk to our parents by the end of this month. He doesn't want any close birthdays or big celebrations so it'll be easier for him to bypass the Special Unit's security. You know, they think we may try to contact our families on a special occasion or something…"

"But he said his own men were watching your families," Michael said, tensing, "and we already know that their houses and offices were bugged." It wasn't that he was worried about their families, but about the thought of catching Dave in a lie. It was an important lie because Dave saying he was going to take care of their relatives had been a major decisive factor in their saying "yes".

"He also said the Special Unit was watching his men," Isabel pointed out, "and that his men were the ones behind those bugs." Maria didn't blame Isabel for wanting to trust Dave's words. After all, the Ice Princess had been the one to press the most for accepting the offer, wanting to keep their families –and Jesse- safe.

"So, by the end of this month?" Kyle said, returning to the point of their conversation. Maria had to admit she had mixed feelings about this "meeting". On the one hand, she was dying to talk to her mom; on the other hand, she was dreading it like the plague… What was Amy DeLuca going to say about alien royalty, FBI, and, oh yeah, running for their lives?

"By phone?" Isabel asked, forgetting Michael's suspiciousness and making Maria focus again.

"He didn't say. He just wants us to know that he is very conscious that we want proof of their safety," Liz said while Max put his arm around her shoulders. "You know, I don't know if it's true, but he also said that aside from watching them, the Special Unit had barely talked to our parents after we 'disappeared'… It was more of a local thing with the Sheriff's office…"

"Yeah, like Hanson would get a clue," Kyle snorted.

"Would have been nice if our parents had been spared that way," Max said, in that quiet and serious way of his.

"Why would they leave them alone?" Michael asked, trying to raise the group's suspiciousness again.

"Dave didn't say much about that," Liz said, now placing a hand over Max's hand that was resting on her left shoulder. "He said that it was a huge a scandal in Roswell and everyone had been all over our parents, so it wasn't practical. Besides, they guessed that if our parents thought they weren't so closely watched, they would eventually contact us."

"It still sounds too convenient," Michael pressed on.

"Yeah, it does…" Maria agreed with him. It did sound too good to be true, but until they spoke with their parents, there was nothing much to be said about that.

So, for the next hour, Liz talked in detail about her interview, which made Michael and Kyle jump in with other things they had also heard. And every minute that passed, Maria slowly began to dread her own visit to Dave's office. She wasn't afraid of the man, no, she was more afraid of saying the wrong thing, of not remembering one of their cover stories, or of revealing something that she shouldn't.

She suddenly felt like the first night Liz had told her the truth: She didn't know what to expect. She hadn't known what to think about aliens; about her own classmates being aliens; about Liz being saved by her classmate who was an alien; about the fact that three aliens now knew she knew what they were. Once she knew that all the cedar in the world wouldn't be enough to calm her down, Maria had stopped sniffing bottle after bottle and had just lay in her bed.

She had wanted to go to her mom first. Alex second. The Sheriff third. But she had kept seeing Liz's eyes in her mind, all that seriousness and pleading that only Liz's eyes could master… _Maria, he saved my life, I won't end his!_ Well, that argument had sort of hushed her for good.

Well, maybe not for _good_. She had been ready to crack with the whole Isabel thing… And Michael's looks that practically screamed "I have criminal tendencies" hadn't helped matters either. But once she had figured out what it was like to be Isabel… what it was like to have such a secret… she had, well, relaxed.

Okay, maybe _relaxed_ was a strong word. She had dealt with it the best way she had been able to. She had accepted that weird things did happen, but she had also tried to keep her life. After all, Michael, Max and Isabel had always been part of West Roswell High, and… well, it had turned out that Michael didn't have criminal tendencies. Not many, anyway.

Now, here she was, not knowing what to expect about her own interview. What would Dave tell her? He had certainly upset Michael with the whole Mrs. Dunlop business, had freaked out Kyle with the cars he had sent to Toby's place, and now Liz and Max didn't look exactly cheerful at the prospect that their little plan to get the diamond/key back had been allowed because of this man.

So, what was Dave going to tell her? And should it surprise her? Of course, she couldn't decide to be surprised or not, but it was just odd to be in this position. And what if Dave knew about something she couldn't even remember having happened to her ages ago? Why would it change the situation she found herself in now? All Dave was doing was telling them "See? I do know about you…" and… and… and what?

It was like Liz and Michael had already said: He was too interested in their relationships. How they had managed to remain together, why had they stayed so long in Roswell, or why hadn't they said a thing to their parents. Dave was interested in human –and hybrid- nature. He had barely asked Liz a thing about the Jellyfish Queen, for instance, while on the other hand, he had asked Kyle a million questions about what he and Alex had done when they had been trapped in that cave.

"And he keeps going in circles…" Michael said in exasperation.

"And he can be really annoying with that," Liz agreed.

"Which makes you want to break something so he'll stop doing that," Kyle ended, which made Liz and Michael exchange a somewhat guilty expression, one that Maria didn't miss. She slightly frowned.

"But the important thing is that he hasn't caught us telling him something we shouldn't," Kyle said, bringing Maria's attention to the conversation. She would ask Liz later what that look was about.

"Yeah, but that's because we thought he was going to ask alien related things," Isabel answered, half worried, half confused. "We assumed he wanted us for our powers, but these interviews…"

"Oh, he wants our powers, I'm sure of it," Michael said, getting that intense look he always got when he was making a point, "that's why we are being interviewed by Jake. Jake just makes the whole thing different…"

Max looked up at Michael. "You have a point there…" he quietly said.

"Yeah, but…" Isabel continued, trying to find the right words, "What does he gain by knowing all these? To prove that if we ran, he'll find us no matter what? That he knows us just too damned well for us to have secrets for long? What is he trying to prove when he tells us these things?"

"No, you're wrong," Michael cut in. "If anything he's proving that he doesn't know much about us. It's like with the rooms, he was just guessing what was important and what was not in our lives."

"What? You're saying that he's guessing about us?" Maria asked, frowning. If Dave was guessing, well… he had to be the luckiest person on the planet to guess it right so many times.

"No, he's not guessing," Liz said. "He knows things, but he doesn't know them whole. He didn't know the diamond was a key until I said so. He knew it was important enough for us to steal it, but that was it."

"He's filling in the blanks," Kyle ended.

"Yes," Isabel said at Kyle's conclusion, "but why is he so interested in filling in the blanks?"

They all looked at each other as if the answer was going to pop up from thin air any second now. Which, unsurprisingly, it didn't. Maria sighed out loud. "We're stuck. We are already in the middle of this crazy situation, so… we'll just keep doing what we have been doing till he goes away, right? Then we'll have to deal with only two prison guards instead of three."

And, unsurprisingly, none of them cheered at that prospect neither.

---------------------------------------------------

Dave finally blinked. He had been staring at his shattered window for quite some time now, his mind lost in one single moment of his whole conversation with Liz. He had been going over and over it enough times to let it go, but he still wasn't sure if his conclusions were right. So he went over it one last time.

Michael had shattered his window more than 24 hours ago – 33 hours, and 28 minutes- and yet Liz hadn't known about that. Or had she just feigned surprise? His trained memory went over the scene. Expressions could be deceiving, but Liz had been surprised to hear him say Michael had done it. But if that was true, then it would mean that Michael hadn't told the group. They were keeping secrets from each other now, and he wasn't sure what to make of it. He absently frowned.

He hadn't anticipated this. He was fully expecting them to lie to him, of course, but to keep things from themselves? Maybe he was making a big thing out of nothing, he considered, because he hoped that they knew how important keeping each other in the loop was.

And speaking of loops…The other thing that was bothering Dave big time was his best friend. Jake had made his case earlier about the kids needing time and space, but those were luxuries he couldn't afford. He knew he was getting on their nerves, but he had thought and thought again how to go about this whole situation, and frankly, he could be doing a lot worse. So no, he was not going to change it. Right?

Right.

Now that he was thinking about his chat with his older friend, Jake asking all that about fake lives had unsettled him. What had Jake been aiming for? He was too smart to not know Dave would read into it.

Jake had always been a cautious person. He didn't like to call attention to himself, and went about his business as quietly as a mouse. But inside of that passive exterior, Dave knew that Jake was always alert, taking mental notes, and when things didn't add up, he would go over and over the subject, even if that "subject" was Dave himself. Jake could be a very persistent man, so Dave knew this conversation about "what do you want for them" was not going to be over until he finally –if ever- could tell Jake the truth. Or something that Jake would believe as the truth. Whatever happened first.

Getting up from his chair, he slowly circled his dark table while absently picking puzzle pieces up and placing them face up. He reached the other side of the table and looked to the window from there. It was already dark outside, so he pretended that it was morning instead of night, as he sat where all the kids had sat. What did they feel like when they were staring at him? He pictured himself at the other end, bending over the puzzle, talking about things he wasn't supposed to know, revealing to them unexpected interventions.

He saw his imaginary self smiling, his eyes trying to not stare, his hand endlessly searching for the next piece. He could look friendly, but he also could look a little bit dark, distant sometimes… and dangerous too. As he was looking at "himself", he pretended to be one of the kids, as if he were the one being interviewed. What did they feel when they were sitting here? The change was instantaneous. How cold his hands became, unsure of what to answer. His eyes looking uneasily in all directions, searching for any clue that Dave might reveal… something that Dave might have missed, or let slip. He felt a tight knot in his stomach, a silent fury in the back of his mind.

If he was reading them right, he was walking a thin line here. They weren't in an easy position, Dave knew, but they had managed, hadn't they? He just had to be careful with what else he was going to "slip".

They were still here, going through these interviews because it was a requirement to keep the deal going, and to their safety and their parents' safety. The closest thing they could get to a "normal" life. And if they stayed long enough, their only hope of having a future as well.

The other thing he felt while sitting on that side of the table was fear. Fear that he wasn't telling the truth, that they had made a mistake. That this whole thing was an illusion. And that fear was something he had to get rid of and _pronto._

Biting his lower lip as he had seen Liz doing, Dave finally reached a dangerous decision that could alter the conclusion of his plan. He decided to change pieces in his mental puzzle. Tomorrow, when Isabel came, he would play one of his last cards. He wasn't planning on using it so soon, but Jake's words were still echoing in his ears. _They are too tense_.

On the other hand, if he didn't play it right, it all could very easily turn against him. Contrary to what these kids thought, Dave didn't know all that much that was relevant enough to keep them guessing. So he had to play this cautiously.

His eyes rested on his ruined pieces. He hadn't known about Max and Liz's connection, for instance, until he had heard them talking in the rooms. He hadn't understood at all what Maria was talking about when she had told Max she could _feel_ Michael. In fact, five days had gone by and he hadn't gotten to know much about that… and in his book, five day mysteries just were non-existent… at least when it came to people.

So, he had asked Liz. And, surprisingly, Liz had answered. Just like Kyle before her, she was trying to make him see that they were being honest when it came to the point where they could say: "Max, Michael and Isabel aren't monsters. They are humans."

Dave had met enough humans who were monsters not to know the difference, but it was very interesting to see these two "defending" the alien trio. He liked that. It made him feel comfortable that these kids had a sense of loyalty and responsibility for each other, and that they cared what was going on with each one of them. And that was why he was worried that Michael hadn't told them –or at least Liz- about the shattered window.

_Like you are one to talk_, he could mentally hear Jake in his ear. He hadn't been exactly brutally honest with them, nor was he telling Ray or Jake the extent of his plans, but… he really didn't like that they were keeping secrets now. The problem was that he didn't see any way of correcting that. This was something they had to work out for themselves. So, deciding there was nothing he could do about it, Dave just let it go. For now.

For a moment he shifted his mental view: He stopped imagining how the kids saw him and tried to see himself from Jake's point of view. _Hiding truths, aren't we?_

Jake had once told him the fact that he avoided the truth didn't mean he wasn't lying… and that had made him cringe. Now that he was pretending to be Jake, that was exactly what he perceived of himself. And what he felt was that Jake was confused. Jake didn't want to doubt him, but he was doubting his intentions. Jake was dealing with it, certainly, but it still made Dave doubt for a moment if leaving his friend in the dark was the right –or safe- thing to do.

No, Jake was better off where he was. If it was truly worrying him, Jake would go and tell him so in a more direct, serious and decisive way. Jake had had his points, but by the time he had left his office, he had also agreed he understood that Dave wasn't playing with them. One point for Dave. Yay…

"Not playing with them" didn't exactly mean Jake was going to let the matter go. _"I'm leaving them with you, what's wrong with that?"_ Dave had asked him at the end of the day. And Jake had looked at him, with the look that said "don't play with me" loud and clear. He hoped these kids would get to know sooner or later how much Jake got to "fight" for them. Dave let go a small smile. And here he was thinking that he was the one protecting them.

Returning his view to the window, his thoughts returned to Liz. The nineteen-year-old brunette had held her ground remarkably well, though he knew she had slipped a couple of times and he was more than sure that she had left his office with turmoil in her mind. Good, let them keep guessing. That would keep them busy. This time, he let go a broader smile. She really didn't know how important she was in Max's life, did she?

Had she ever wondered how Max's view of the world would have changed if she had freaked out and turned him in? Or had she wondered back then how much it would mean in the future that she hadn't run away from him?

Still sitting on the black leather chair, and still staring at the shattered window, Dave sighed. Did any of them know how important they were for the future of his plan?

---------------------------------------------------

"You did _not_ do that," Max said with a worried tone, all strength draining from his body, finally letting himself sink into one of Isabel's couches.

Isabel looked at Michael with a somewhat annoyed expression, one that didn't exactly hold surprise –just as Max's hadn't- at Michael's latest revelation. It was now close to 9:00p.m., and the three of them were discussing things over at Isabel's apartment. Maria had gone to Liz's apartment to have a girl talk while Kyle had mumbled something about meditation and peace of mind. Isabel guessed that the six of them needed their space again, if only for a little while.

And though Isabel had thought they were going to have a calm conversation to review how things had gone so far, she now found herself listening to Michael's account of his interview. It could never be easy with Michael, could it?

"He was pushing it," Michael explained in a cold voice, pacing in front of them. Max looked at the ceiling as if praying for patience. "Besides," Michael continued, "it isn't as if he's going to kick us out or anything. We are too important to him."

"That's not the point," Isabel said before Max had any chance, or she wouldn't be able to stop both of them starting a discussion. "You cannot just go breaking his windows and expect him to do nothing in the long run."

"I didn't break it," Michael said, annoyed, "and to tell you the truth I don't think he was surprised about it either."

"Oh, that's great," Max said with uncharacteristic tired sarcasm.

"Listen, nothing happened," Michael snapped back, "He didn't say a thing about it. If he had cared all that much, he would have said so."

Max gave Michael a cold look that said "don't make me start". For some reason, her brother wasn't in the mood to argue with Michael, but that look had sent goosebumps down her spine. Michael sat down as well, calmer. Max lowered his eyes and rubbed his forehead with his left hand.

"We have to be more careful with what we do around him. He's trying to see what buttons to press, and if we just lose it…"

"You mean if _I _lose it," Michael said, with an accusing tone.

"No, I mean _we_," Max said in a serious voice, "I wasn't exactly brilliant today breaking the glass door. At least you shattered the window on purpose… I never saw it coming."

Isabel looked at her brother with a worried look. He gave her a small smile. "At least you haven't lost it," he sort of joked, avoiding elaborating on the subject.

"I just hope I can say the same tomorrow night," Isabel said, not wanting to imagine what exactly Dave was going to tell her. She stood up and went to her kitchen, desperate to have something to do to get her mind off tomorrow's interview. Max and Michael were still talking in her living room.

"You should have at least told Liz beforehand," Max said, trying to sound calm and not impatient, though he failed.

"I know…" she heard Michael say in a resigned voice, as she was taking three Snapples out of the fridge. Well, Michael agreeing so fast he had been wrong was a first.

"Liz told me so," he continued, "and I'm sorry, okay?" he defensively said, sounding a lot more like the Michael she knew, "But I didn't think you needed the extra information right then."

"It's not that, Michael," Max said, in that tone he got when he was desperate to make a point to Michael. Now that she was thinking about it, Max only got that tone when trying to explain things to Michael. "If we are keeping things from each other and he gets to know that, he could very easily use that to his advantage. It can be used against us. And we cannot give him more advantages than he already has."

Silence. Isabel busied herself in the kitchen. She hated to be in the middle of her brother and Michael, and somehow, it always ended up being like that. So, no, not this time.

"You would have been able to deal with it this morning?" Michael asked, talking about the fact that he had had a good reason for keeping things from Max.

"I have enough tension to blow this ceiling right now," Max said, in a low voice. "But you should… You must see… I… I don't know what I'm saying. I'm just too tired to think straight." Her brother closed his eyes for two seconds, and then, sighing, he tried to put his thoughts in order. "You shouldn't have kept it secret, but I don't think you were wrong in assuming that I'm pretty much at my limit right now…"

Isabel re-entered her living room and gave each of the boys a Snapple. Michael looked worried, and she wasn't sure of what she should say to either Max or Michael. Max was right, but the problem was that his two sentences were contradicting each other.

"We made the right decision, didn't we?" Max asked, looking at each one of them in turn.

"We are stuck here, what difference does it make?" Michael said back, tactless as usual. He might be worried, but it didn't mean he was going to say what he thought in any other way.

"It makes all the difference in the world," Max said, leaning back against the couch. He was right, again. If they had made the wrong decision, how were they going to make any other in the future without this one weighing on their heads? If this was the right decision and it went astray, okay… but if it was wrong all along…

"There's one more thing I wanted to tell you," Michael broke in, for once keeping to himself whatever it was he thought about the decision they had made. "After I shattered his window… he went right away with something else, and I'm not sure what to make of it."

Isabel sat beside Michael. Max looked at him, unsure if he wanted to keep listening or not. What now?

"It was about Maria's present… And now I'm thinking that I might take his advice."

---------------------------------------------------

"_I didn't hear you complaining then, nor coming up with another plan. And you did know what we were doing." _Ray's words echoed in Jake's mind for the millionth time that night. The worst thing was that Ray was right. Jake had willingly and consciously followed Dave's plan. But things didn't seem so clear now than two weeks before. He sighed. It was almost midnight and Jake couldn't sleep. Just like Dave had been changing pieces in his mental puzzle, Jake was trying to see all the pieces there were to play with. What was Dave's puzzle to begin with?

When Dave had told him seven months ago that he was watching these kids from afar because the government was behind them, Jake had thought that he understood perfectly well Dave's cautiousness. Maybe the "Special Unit" wasn't behind him, but if someone in the military got wind that Dave wasn't as dead as he was supposed to be, Dave -and Jake- were going to be in big trouble.

The problem was that now it didn't seem like Dave's cautiousness had anything to do with his non-dead status, but with something else. Something else concerning these kids. Of course Ray wouldn't have had a clue of what his words had implied earlier that afternoon in Jake's mind about everything Jake knew that Ray didn't. After all, if Dave and Jake barely talked about their past with each other, they just forgot they had a past with everyone else.

"_Well, about two friends who met in childhood and have to escape this big, evil, dark castle. Our real lives in medieval times."_ Dave had said about his imaginary life with his imaginary Nobel Prize, and that was probably the closest reference they had made about the beginnings of their friendship in five years… if not longer.

And now that friendship was being put to a very hard test. He had believed Dave today when he had assured him that he was not playing with them, because frankly, Jake couldn't imagine Dave playing with people's emotions just to see what could happen. Never out of fun. On the other hand, he knew really well that Dave _did_ play with people when he thought the final outcome was worth it. That was why he was an expert at making deals. And he _had_ played with these kids, at least in the beginning, to get them to accept an offer that had probably saved their lives.

That had seemed like the big scheme less than ten days ago to Jake. Saving their lives from certain doom. Jake bitterly smiled to himself. As far as he could see, saving their lives was part of the scheme, but hardly the whole thing.

Taking a deep breath, Jake tried to see things from another perspective. What if, for the sake of argument, it had been to save their lives? If Dave was not interested in anything else but that, then sending them to Jake was more out of giving them something to do than anything else. He knew the kids had been expecting to be exploited, so, Dave saying that he wanted exactly what they thought everyone wanted from them had been just some sort of cover up story.

Except that it couldn't be that easy. Because Dave was _very_ interested in their abilities. _He has to practice,_ Dave had pointed out when they were discussing Max's refusal to heal just yesterday. But then again, Dave had never told Jake _you have to figure out how they do it_, which, frankly, was something he couldn't promise he could ever understand.

Looking at no point in particular on the ceiling, Jake thought harder. There were two primordial things with Dave's actions: One was "keep them here no matter what it takes" and the second one was "get them to use their powers". So, those were two pieces, what about the rest?

"_What if they decide to leave?" Jake had asked Dave less than three days ago, "Well," he had answered without hesitation, "the deal was pretty clear on that one: I can't follow them, I'll just disappear." _And Dave had been telling him the truth, Jake could tell. He was too annoyed at the prospect for it to be a lie. But it didn't make sense that Dave would so unceremoniously leave them alone just because they decided so.

And, what if they did leave?

If they left right now their chances out there were zero. But what if they left in a year? Two, three years… Away from the world and actually getting to learn their full potential, in three years they could probably get to be really good. Dave would certainly keep his part about clearing out the Special Unit, and even one year could be all he needed for that. Maybe what Dave was aiming for was to prepare them to live out there, with a clean start.

"Another life?" Jake said out loud to no one in that room but himself. He had already gone down that avenue, and had even convinced himself that it couldn't possibly be what Dave wanted. But the pieces seemed to fit: Keep them here 'til I can clear the coast out there, and make them practice so they can defend themselves once they are out.

But Jake had already asked him that, hadn't he? _"Protect them from what?" Jake had asked Dave in exasperation when he was getting nowhere with the kids. "From the world, of course," Dave had said, shrugging, and then, as if thinking it, he had silently repeated to himself, "from the world…"_

And that second time had given Jake the creeps. The way he had said it… If Dave was indeed protecting them from "the world", then Jake's and Dave's definition of the concept differed by a long shot. Why would Dave need to protect them from the world in such a drastic way? And why, oh why couldn't Jake swallow that what Dave was doing was exactly that: To protect them from the world? That he was giving them the opportunity to learn to defend themselves once they went back to the big, bad world?

Because if it were just that, he wouldn't have taken so, _so_ damn many precautions, Jake thought, the ceiling still being this really fascinating object from which he couldn't unglue his sight.

He wished he could be as trusting as Ray was about Dave's plan. Granted, Jake didn't believe for a second that Dave's plan implied the kids getting hurt, but not knowing what Dave was doing meant that Dave himself didn't believe it was all that good. Why would Dave keep it secret if it were any other way?

Shutting his eyes really tight as if he were having a headache, Jake tried to start from the beginning. Maybe his problem to figure this out was that he hadn't really spent too much time around Dave for the past years… they saw each other regularly, yeah, but that was as friends, never really going into detail about each others' "work". They talked about the world, about other things. They remembered things they had done together, and went places together to have a good time. But Dave always kept to himself what he was doing with his plans.

So Jake went back, to that time when he knew Dave better than Dave knew himself, and that brought memories of a very mischievous, stubborn and persistent kid. When Jake had first seen Dave, he had had no doubt in his mind that the six-year-old who was having an asthma attack was going to be his salvation out of that place. Granted, it had taken them six more years, but they had managed.

Thinking about that made it finally hit Jake that Dave's plan was unclear to him because Jake was thinking about it in a linear way. He was assuming Dave had one motivation, and that was working towards one goal. From point A to point B. When in fact Dave was used to working with multiple points to get multiple tasks done. Maybe Dave had more than one reason to keep them safe, and was hoping to gain more than just teaching them how to defend themselves out there…

If Dave –who was placing piece number 2982 at his office- had known that Jake had hit on the basis of what he was doing, he would have re-thought everything he was doing up to that point. But, placing piece number 2983, he would have smiled and known that it was just plain impossible that Jake –or anyone- could know.

Jake knew this. That he was lacking information to see what other things Dave had set in motion. But most of all, he was lacking a time frame for what Dave had been doing for the past two and a half years. He had definitely stumbled upon these kids by mere coincidence, but it was unlikely that Dave had planned so many complex situations to just protect them. Or to just teach them.

Sighing, Jake resigned himself to the idea that the other thing he lacked was Dave's insight into the lives of these kids. And he also lacked that far away vision that Dave always had had of the future of things. Of the great scheme of things and all that.

Placing piece number 2991, Dave stopped for a second, almost as if sensing that someone was thinking through his doings. And Jake had been so close… Because Dave did have a damned good insight about the future of these kids… about the future of everyone involved in his plan… and about the terrible consequences should his plan fail as well.


	21. Significant Others

Thanks for coming back to read! And thank you very much for the reviews :) This is a girl-only chapter, hope you enjoy!

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**XXI**

**Significant Others**

It wasn't working. It hadn't worked for the past three nights, and it wasn't working now either. Isabel felt frustration creeping all over her body as she lay on her bed. No matter how hard she tried, she couldn't dreamwalk Dave. The doubt that Dave was, after all, an alien was eating her up as badly as those green sparks were eating Kyle. Neither one of them had confided those facts to anyone in their group, though, so they were both silently suffering in their respective apartments.

She had been going around and around what she had seen in Ray's dream the night before. And for all she could decipher, Ray thought that Dave and Jake were humans. He couldn't understand why Isabel was asking such things; he had thought it was the most hilarious thing ever too. And then she had had no choice but to leave his dream, without a real answer. She had to dreamwalk Dave -or Jake- to get to know that for certain.

Except that Dave was an impossible matter, and she wasn't sure that she wanted to dreamwalk Jake just now. She was still gathering the nerve to do it, trying to convince herself that Jake wouldn't think it odd.

Just like Kyle had decided that the group didn't need more pressure, Isabel had decided to keep her suspicions to herself 'til she had something more solid. If Max or Michael were thinking that Dave could be an alien, they hadn't said a thing about that. Everyone had thought that Dave was being honest when it came to telling them how he had discovered them.

It all had made sense when Dave had told his story, Isabel thought again, but beside his word, there was nothing else to prove that he was human, or even if his way of discovering them had been exactly like that. And then again, if she dreamwalked Jake, and if he turned out to be human, that didn't automatically prove that Dave was too. She was going in circles with this, and it was very frustrating. She had been going around the same theory for two nights now.

Isabel tiredly closed her eyes. She needed to sleep, she knew that, but too many things were swirling in her head for that. She knew, beyond a doubt, that Dave would bring Jesse into their conversation, and she wasn't sure if she wanted to talk about Jesse or not. Was he running for his life? Had anyone gotten to him? Was he still looking over his shoulder? Was he having a nice life now?

Did he still think about her?

How could she ever think that marrying Jesse was a good idea? It all had seemed so clear back in the day… Despite what everyone had told her, it all had seemed worth it. She let go a small, sad smile. _Worth it_… How hollow it sounded in this empty bed, and how selfish she felt as well. She had wanted it all, hadn't she? She had wanted to graduate high school, to go to college, to marry, to have a family of her own… All things that any normal person would want.

She shut her eyes trying to let go of all these thoughts. But she couldn't keep them at bay. Why had she kidded herself about having a normal life with Jesse?

She hadn't been stupid, no. Impulsive, maybe, but not stupid. She had just buried Alex, which had made her _feel_ that life was really short. She couldn't mourn Alex any longer than she had, because all she could picture was Alex's grin, Alex's joyfulness, Alex's way of enjoying life. Kyle had told her about a week after Tess had left, that Alex wouldn't have had it any other way. That his life had been unique and that was all that Alex had ever wanted. So she had decided that enough was enough, and that Alex would want her to keep going with her life.

It had been then that Isabel had started to let it go. About a month afterwards, she had cut her hair, changed its color, and decided that she would change everything in her life too. She was now a college girl. There was no Special Unit anymore. No alien enemies had shown up. Tess was gone… summer was going by without much happening. Max, Michael and her had all agreed on their _renewed_ vow about not telling anyone anymore. But things between the three of them hadn't been the same after everything that had happened in the last weeks Tess had been around. They had also agreed to let go of ever wanting to go back to Antar and had decided to live in this world.

Her brother hadn't said it, but he had been disappointed that neither she nor Michael had wanted to help him in his impossible quest of finding his son. So he had said nothing more about her nephew, and had taken to himself whatever plans he had had.

And Michael… well, it was practically impossible to find Michael without Maria… And so, Isabel had begun to feel kind of lonely now that the two boys who had grown up with her and had shared almost everything she had ever done, had gone their own separate ways.

But it was okay, because she was planning on having a life of her own as well. To have her own future without them attached to her every move. And that future had just materialized once her father had been able to convince her to go to that boring company picnic on July 5th.

It had been so casual. Two strangers talking out of the blue since both of them were practically dying of boredom, watching the grass grow. He had made her laugh before ten minutes had passed. And that had been it. She hadn't smiled this much for a long time. Kyle was always joking around her, but it always felt so forced, like he was putting up on some show so she would get to laugh. But Jesse hadn't known her, or her past, and yet there he was, so easily getting from her what no one had been able to do for two months. The instant Jesse had smiled, she had fallen in love with him.

It all had happened so fast, and with such passion. Jesse was as full of life as she wished she could be. He had no secret life, no dark past… he was a normal guy. Everything that she was hoping for and so much more. And she could never have enough of that feeling, the one of being so alive, that she had to see Jesse more and more often. He was perfect. Their relationship was perfect.

Or it was for about two seconds when she realized that eventually she would have to confide in him… And she had dreaded that moment. Oh, how she had dreaded it. But she had pushed that thought to the back of her mind. Why would she think about something that shouldn't worry her just yet? Because in those early days, Isabel had known that getting really serious with Jesse would take time. _A lot_ of it.

Except that it hadn't taken all that long... And it hadn't been perfect.

She was always afraid of doing the wrong thing, of saying the wrong thing in front of Jesse. She had gotten so used to being around Maria, Liz and Kyle and using her powers whenever she wanted to in front of them, that adjusting to this new person that didn't know the truth about her had been difficult.

She had been annoyed at some point that Kyle and Maria went to her to ask small favors out of her powers, but that was in part because she couldn't share that with Jesse. She couldn't make things easy for him. She had to cook the "human" way, when a wave of her hand would do wonders instead. She had to wash dishes, to squeeze orange juice… to say that she needed Max and Michael to paint her own apartment, when the irony was that they were going to use their powers to do so, something she could really do very well on her own.

When she actually got too frustrated and started to use her powers all the same, she had to make up all these elaborate scenarios to explain why things worked properly, or why things were done so fast. It was frustrating to no end. It hadn't been even half as difficult with her parents, in part because her parents weren't home most of the time, or she wasn't home all of the time, and, well… it was just easier since their parents weren't snooping around her and asking a million questions like Jesse did.

Not that Jesse didn't have the right to wonder… She had lied so much to him in such a short time that of course she had known she was a damned good liar. She had never questioned it, it was just a given with her. Her life depended on her ability to lie. Before she had even known she was an alien, she had already known that she was different from all the other kids, and had kept that to herself. Gosh, even talking about that with Max had been difficult back in the day; and as they were growing up they just had pretty much avoided the subject.

And she had avoided the subject with Jesse with such efficiency that it had been so clear to her why Jesse was so angry with that. He understood why she had to lie, but he didn't understand why it was so easy for her to deceive him. Not him, of all people. Why hadn't she trusted him? That was what had made Jesse so angry in the end: That she had kept him in the dark, willingly, consciously and purposefully.

He had given her enough opportunities to tell him the truth, Isabel guessed, but how could Jesse even grasp what his wife's secret was all about? Psychic abilities? Yeah, she should have gone with the witch theory… But the part that hurt the most was that Isabel _knew_ that if it hadn't been for a life-death situation, she wouldn't have told Jesse the truth.

It was so ironic, because everyone who knew their secret had known it because there had been a life-death situation. From Max saving Liz and Kyle, to them trusting the Sheriff to rescue Max, to finally telling the truth to their parents so they could flee their own home. She had never been able to picture telling Jesse the truth without Jesse running for his life, betraying her, or just fainting, only to later run for his life and betray her.

She had been so unfair to Jesse… but she had been so scared of facing the harsh reality that Jesse viewed her as something different. This monster from outer space… this stranger that was no longer his wife. So she had put it off… Until Jesse had finally discovered it in the worst possible way. There was no turning back then. He knew and that was it.

But he had stayed.

It hadn't been easy later on. Hell, truth to be told, it had been almost impossible after that. He wanted to think that it didn't matter, but it mattered to him that she hadn't been honest. That she thought he was untrustworthy. That all he could think was that Isabel Evans was just an act. And now there was this whole side of her that he didn't know. And there were all these expectations from Max and Michael that he didn't want –or care- to meet.

It had been the two of them before she got shot, and it had become the two of them plus the whole alien club after that. And Jesse had been so frustrated. It was bad enough that he was worried about _what_ she was, but it was way worse to have all these eyes pinned on him.

They had fought a lot. So much until she was just so sick of it and so sick of feeling guilty all the time that she had really thought it had been the biggest mistake of her life. Until Jesse had come through. He had killed a man to keep her safe. Oh, things hadn't gotten better after that –they got worse actually- but that act had proven to her that Jesse still cared about her. Cared so much in fact, that she was willing to forget all about Roswell and start someplace else. Screw the whole alien mafia for once!

Their fighting got worse. He told her that he needed time to adjust, but in truth Jesse was furious that he had become part of something bad, something dark and secretive and all around wrong. He had been furious too that now he had to lie to everyone around him, and that somehow he was now under Max's and Michael's orders, that he was no longer in control of every aspect of his life. He hadn't been able to understand that now his actions and decisions had to be approved by other people, much younger people for crying out loud.

And it was all going downward… faster and faster… and she was watching it all go to hell. All her hopes, all her future… gone, just like that. And then Tess had crashed… And Jesse had had his second glimpse into her life. That was her secret, alien, running-for-my-life part of her life.

With Agent Burns, Jesse had only gotten to see what it was like when people knew about them. With the Army, Jesse had gotten to see what it was like to literally be running for their lives. It had changed his mind… It had made him understand what it was like to be like her. How odd that things going so wrong for all of them had finally made things go better for her marriage.

Because things got better. After things had gone quiet with the Army, they actually had been getting back into what they used to be, what they used to have. She was still this alien wife, but she was no longer a stranger. Somehow the fact that she had to start all over with her parents, telling them the truth and answering their questions, had made Jesse not feel so alone and singled out. He was no longer the only newcomer into the alien abyss, nor was he the only one over 20 that knew about all of it, the ex-Sheriff excluded, of course.

It _was_ becoming perfect. Until a week later when it was all taken back again. _Have the life that you were supposed to have before you met me..._

She unconsciously played with her wedding ring on her left hand, a habit born of anxiousness. Every time she thought about Jesse, she would invariably do that. She never took it off, because it was the only link she had with him. Night after night she debated whether she should dreamwalk the man of her dreams or not. And the answer was always a negative one. She couldn't do this to Jesse… not even to know how he was doing. Because if Jesse knew what she could do and then someone else found out… Besides, chances were she was too far away to reach him anyway.

Now she had the chance to know for sure what had happened to him. Max had been right when she had dreamwalked him on Saturday afternoon: Dave had to know what was going on with her husband, because any other thing wouldn't make sense. Not with Dave. The man had done way too many things already, so many complicated things to get to know them, to not know where Jesse was.

A thought crossed her mind in that instant that made her go cold: What if Dave didn't bring Jesse into the conversation at all? Did she want to know all the same? Would he wait for her to bring Jesse into the conversation then? As crazy as it sounded, she hoped that Dave _would_ bring Jesse up, taking the choice away from her, because leaving the option to her would be too much for her heart and soul.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

In slow motion, the windows shattered, and a second later, they exploded, making that sound the only thing audible in the whole room. S_o you don't forget_, a familiar voice said behind her, as she watched the scene unfold, not knowing what to do or say.

Maria's eyes opened with a start. It took her a second to register that she was on her bed, and turning her head to the left, she found that Michael was still sleeping, without a hint that he had sensed that she had been having a bad dream. Good.

Taking a deep breath, Maria let herself relax. It had been a weird dream, not exactly a bad one, but it told her that her subconscious wasn't exactly buying what her conscious mind had decided the minute that they had stepped inside this complex.

She had been terrified about what this Dave wanted of the alien trio until he had seriously said that he wanted them to "eat properly"; she had stopped shivering at the thought of the pod squad being trapped here in a dark cell when he had stated that it was "stress" that was going to kill them, and ultimately, when he had asked what their "conditions" were. She had known then that Dave wasn't going to hurt them, because he didn't have to go through all of that to do something that he could easily do in another million, non-nice ways. And as the days had gone by, her belief had been proven right.

She hadn't fooled herself then, and she wasn't fooling herself now, but whatever that man wanted, just as Max had kept saying, it included them being safe.

So, she might have accepted that this wasn't going to be for the worst, but lying awake on her bed in the middle of the night, she realized that she was so calm about this deal for all the wrong reasons. They were safe, and she would bet her life that they were going to be safe for a long time, but she also knew that eventually, that safety was going to disappear. She just knew it.

They had accepted out of fear, and God knew that Michael, Max and Isabel were having the worst part of it all, but they had also accepted out of hope. Or so she kept reminding herself. The interesting part was that this whole thing had turned into anything but what they had envisioned. But then again, the fact that they had envisioned a future full of gloom and doom was something easy to beat with this complex.

She sighed. Sleep was nowhere to be found, and she just couldn't lay awake waiting for the alarm to go off. Because Michael was blocking her view, she couldn't look at her clock. And she didn't want to move, because it was hard enough for Michael to fall asleep for her to just awake him for no good reason. She had to regain her sleepiness, she decided.

She tried… for about three seconds. She had too much going on inside her mind to try to really relax. She had been thinking a lot about everything on her life lately. About Max saving Liz and how that had gotten her to Michael. About how they had been on and off more times than she wanted to count. About why she was here and what role she had on the group. And now she had been dreaming about her interview with Dave. It all had started right, though Michael had offered to walk her to Dave's door. Which she had accepted without a single concern, until Michael had faced Dave in his office, had raised his hand, and had shattered and exploded the entire window behind the man. _So you don't forget._

That had been when she had awakened. Liz had told her what Michael had done, and Maria had had to wonder what that would mean for her future interview. What would she say about Michael? "He breaks windows, that's what he does". Well, yeah, he did that a lot, but Michael did so much more than just break things out of frustration. She knew Dave was going to make some reference to that window, and Maria wasn't sure which approach was better: To play it cool, or to defend Michael, or to… well, just say nothing about it.

She knew that Liz had tried that approach, "say nothing about it", but if that man had made Michael talk for three hours, she was going to be a field trip for him. Maybe she should be the one to talk. That way, she could just babble on about whatever issue she wanted to babble about, not leaving Dave space to ask things she didn't want to talk about.

Sure, well… she could try, now, couldn't she?

She was getting weary of things, though. She was getting weary of the pressure on the group, pressure that they didn't seem to be able to elude. She was still sore all over because of the gym, and now she was having nightmares about Michael kicking Dave's butt. Things weren't getting as easy as anyone would have wanted, and the knowledge that Michael was very capable of making her dream come true did not do wonders for her nerves.

She turned to look at a very asleep Michael, and after staring at him for ten seconds, she smiled and whispered, "Silly…"

Michael didn't have to tell her -no one had to tell her- that ultimately, Michael had shattered that window because Dave had been pushing it, and she was more than sure that it had had something to do with her and her safety. Dave wasn't a fool, he knew exactly where the Czechoslovakians' weaknesses laid: With their human counterparts. Pierce had once used it against Max in the most unforgivable way; now Dave was playing a different game, but he knew exactly what cards he needed to play.

What she didn't know was if Dave had anticipated Michael's outburst. She had been waiting for something to happen, but she had thought that Michael was going to shout some things, not break them. Not that Michael was telling her much of what he had said either. He was shutting her out in more ways than just their new found connection. He was trying to leave her out of what was going on with him regarding everything.

And that was fine, because Maria knew that Michael was scared. Scared for them all, scared for bringing her along. Michael was keeping his distance with everyone for the moment, so he could take a look at things and get to know what was going on. Then he would open up again, more sure of where he was standing, knowing what he had to do to protect those he loved.

Of course, Maria's patience was running thin by now. She hadn't said much to Michael about that because she knew he needed to come to terms with this whole situation, but she was starting to miss his vibes. To miss his closeness… To miss his touch.

The thing was she knew that Michael was feeling very vulnerable right now. As long as he felt that things were out of control and that dangers were just about to jump around the corner, he would put that damned wall around him. As if his feelings were this distraction, she guessed. Ha. Please. When was Michael going to learn that emotions were his greatest source of energy? He probably needed her more than ever rightnowtoo, but it had to be Michael who had to realize that, or otherwise, they were going to end up arguing in a very serious way, and she just couldn't deal with that. Not now. Not two days before her interview, and certainly not two days before her birthday.

It was so weird to be in this place, with so many unknowns, and to see Michael sleeping just like that, as if he wasn't worried beyond sick. She sensed that Michael was really tired by now, so he had no other option but to fall asleep and stay asleep for the entire night. Good. He really needed that. And it gave her the rare pleasure of staring at Michael, just because she loved how he looked asleep.

Liz had told her that Max needed a good night's sleep as well, and Isabel didn't look like she was getting much rest either. Not that Liz, Kyle and herself looked that great to begin with, but somehow it seemed as if their three resident hybrids were taking it worse. But then again, what did she know about having to hide powers? What did she know about what it was like to be afraid of being seen as a lab rat?

Michael moved in his sleep, and Maria was afraid that all these stupid things she was thinking were going to wake him up. But he didn't, and Maria let go a sigh of relief. She really didn't need to be thinking about all that crap either. She needed to concentrate on the good things, so she could send those vibes to the love of her life.

Getting on her side so she could have a more comfortable view of Michael, Maria felt relieved. They were still together. Sure, they were still snapping back, and pouting, and she was still slapping him, and he was still ignoring her sometimes, but it was all part of the package. Along with those sweet and spicy kisses, those electrifying touches, and those unexpected surprises that Michael managed from time to time. All handmade, of course. Space Boy did learn his lessons well.

She smiled at memories of simpler times. Not that anything had ever been simple with Michael, mind you, but at times when they weren't so afraid. Times when he didn't have a clue about how to treat women, and when she didn't know how to treat hybrids. She had wanted Michael to be like Max, but with Michael's passionate outbursts and intensity. And he had wanted Maria's sparkles and energy, but without all the romantic crap. He certainly didn't like things slow, and to be honest, neither did she. So somewhere along those first months, they had both seen that what they really wanted was each other, with their moods, and their rudeness, and their tactlessness and all that. He learned to be a little bit romantic. She learned to overlook his failed attempts at romanticism and to celebrate those occasions when he actually got it right. Because when Michael got it right, he got it _right_.

And for more than three years now they had been on and off and on and off… And she wasn't sure why. Alex had once told her that it probably was because they short circuited each other with so many vibes. Oh, Alex had loved to tease her about that theory of hers, the one about communicating through vibes. She had slapped Alex for that one, but looking back at her story with Michael, Alex might have been correct.

When either one of them got too intense about anything, be it some stupid prom dance or an old friend visiting, they would just collide. Collide as two trains collide, with such intensity that the damage took months to be cleaned up. But it was cleaned up, and they would sooner or later be around each other again. And every time they reunited, they stayed together for longer periods of time. They were certainly learning from their past mistakes, and Maria liked that a lot. They were evolving as a couple, or something like that.

She imagined she could see the future, and in that vision she saw herself as a mother, with Michael as a father. What kind of father would Michael be? She softly giggled at the thought of their daughters having to fight every inch for the right to have a relationship, and somehow she found amusing the thought of scared boyfriends when Michael opened their future home's door.

She imagined Michael fixing their car with theirs sons, explaining to them some complicated subject at night, or just teasing them about a new girl, exercising a patience that Maria knew Michael was keeping in storage for future years. She could picture it so well. She could picture it down to the last detail of Michael's worried eyes looking around the corner, expecting someone to come and take their children away.

A future with Michael… was not an easy one. She smiled though, because a future with Michael was all that she really ever wanted, with the spooky, the crazy and the unexpected. She really didn't want to hope for it, but all the same she was hoping that Dave would take care of every shadow of that future… She tried to pursue her vision, one in which Michael would look around the corner and find nothing. One where he would turn around and look at their kids splashing water over each other as they were washing the car.

Or maybe Dave wasn't the right answer. Maybe they would manage to get lost in the big world, and find that place of their own. One where no one knew them, where they would get to start over. If Dave was telling the truth, maybe ten years from now no one would know about them but Dave himself, and then they would leave this place and go… somewhere.

And maybe she was just the most stupid girl in the entire universe to believe they could make it out of there and actually find the right place to live, but from that instant on, for the next long eight years, Maria never stopped looking for that place, for that perfect place in the entire world where they would belong.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

It was the familiar smell that awoke her. She couldn't really place where she had smelled it though, as the fog of her dreams was starting to dissipate just now. Slowly and sleepily, she reached with her hand to find that Max wasn't by her side.

Liz frowned as she opened her eyes. Max _was_ nearby, just not as close as she had thought. She still couldn't tell how far or close Max was at any given moment –as he somewhat could- but she was working on it. Still, as she breathed once more, this time the smell brought her memories of home. It was the smell of toast, and pancakes. It was the smell of breakfast being cooked.

She smiled, even laughed a little. The world could be falling apart around them, but Max would still surprise her from time to time with some small things. He tried to take every little calm moment he could find to make it special. And for that she loved him even more.

She turned to see the hour, and her heart made a double beat as she saw that it was already 7:12. She should be at the Gym, right? Just because Max and Michael had gotten the day free, it didn't mean that she, Maria and Kyle had it free as well… right? Besides, how horrible of her not to wake up and at least accompany Isabel as far as the Gym while her sister-in-law headed toward her interview with Dave.

She closed her eyes for an instant and then got up off the bed. She had put the alarm on the night before, she was sure of it, which meant that Max had turned it off before she could hear it. She couldn't believe this was the second time in five days that Max had let her sleep when important things were happening. Sure, she needed the sleep, but she could decide if she wanted to go and be present, or to just keep sleeping. Besides—

"It's okay!" She heard Max half laughing, half shouting to her from outside their bedroom. Almost as if he had known exactly what she was thinking. Of course, she thought, he knows what I'm feeling, and sure enough he knows _why_ I'm feeling that.

For the briefest of moments, Liz froze as she was searching for her right shoe. There was something off with their connection. Something she couldn't really be sure about, but all the same there was something not right… Oh, the connection was there, sure, it was just that she had never felt it so… _low_ before. Yeah, that was it, it was low. Of course, she still hadn't felt how low it would get just the next day. Hell, on a day around eight years in the future she would definitely experience what _the lowest_ meant in terms of feeling Max's connection, but because she couldn't see the future anymore, all these facts didn't bother her right at that moment.

All she knew was that Max was right in the next room and he didn't feel all that close… He wasn't closing off, that much she knew, but as she finally found her shoe and left their bedroom to meet with Max, her worries vanished away as her eyes met with his. Their connection sparkled into life.

"I wanted to surprise you," he said, with a small smile, pancakes being put onto a plate. By the looks of it, he was half through with their breakfast.

She returned the smile, stopping right outside their bedroom door, leaning against the door frame. Yet, she crossed her arms in front of her. "It's a little late, wouldn't you say?" She wasn't looking for an argument with Max, but he had to learn once and for all that she wasn't happy with being left out.

"Not at all," Max said, turning to the fridge to get the juice out. "We got a message from Isabel saying that Dave had re-scheduled her interview for 8:30. And Michael sent one to Ray about us not showing at the Gym till 8:30 as well…"

"He did?" Liz asked, letting her pout go as well as letting her arms fall to her sides, crossing the distance between their room and the kitchen. As Max was pouring the orange juice, she continued to ask. "What did Ray say?" Though to be honest, Liz was thinking more along the lines of what Max had thought about that.

"He sent a message back saying 'okay'," Max answered as he returned to his pancakes. "So I was just about to ask Ray what 'okay' meant, when Michael wrote me explaining."

Liz walked into the kitchen, the smell of toast and pancakes making her stomach growl. Before she could figure out how to ask why Max was not going ballistic on Michael, he casually said, "It's interesting that Ray didn't give us a hard time on that one."

"You were expecting him to?" Liz asked, standing in the entrance that separated the kitchen/pantry from their living room, watching him intently.

"I didn't have an opinion on that one, about asking him for more time this morning," Max said, turning his head to talk to her as he was cooking the rest of their breakfast. "But I think Maria was right yesterday. Once Dave goes, we'll only have Jake and Ray to worry about… so getting to see what they do or don't do is interesting."

Liz nodded. "Besides," Max continued, returning his attention to his pancakes, "I don't think that schedule would have worked in the long run… Not with Michael and Maria having to get up that early…"

Liz laughed, a real laugh, which made Max turn and laugh a little too. It always amused her how Max never laughed all that hard at his own jokes, like he was too modest or something. It didn't matter; she would always get to laugh for both of them.

Finally entering the kitchen, she went to Max to kiss him good morning. It was a sweet good morning kiss, and though Liz didn't mind the spiciness of Max's kisses, she would rather have his sweet taste instead. "You've been eating… honey?" She wondered out loud, narrowing her eyes, making Max slightly blush.

"I only had a small bite," Max said, stating that he hadn't eaten breakfast just yet. She smiled at him. Of course he hadn't eaten without her. Sitting on their small, round table, Liz kept watching Max cook. She was still sleepy, she was still sore from the exercise. Hell, she was still paranoid and worried and tense, but for one perfect moment, she was content to be in a kitchen, watching her husband cooking her breakfast. It felt so good. It felt so _normal._ And normal hadn't been around for so long that Liz thought that she had started to forget what not being on the run was like.

"I could get use to this," she said as Max was bringing the rest of the pancakes to the table, the honey bottle in his other hand. He reached out to steal one more kiss from her.

"I could get use to this too," he said as they broke their kiss, caught up into Liz's perfect moment as well.

But a moment was all it was, at least for now, as they both started to eat, reality crashing back about their whereabouts and circumstances.

"Was Isabel nervous yesterday?" Liz asked, pouring honey on her pancakes, as Max was drowning his with Tabasco sauce. There was something bothering Max, she could tell. But then again, knowing Max, it would be some _things. _It could never be a singular worry with Max.

"The usual, I guess… She's worried about Jesse… and what Dave might tell her about him," Max quietly said, lost in thoughts about last night. "She's worried too about our parents…"

_She's worried about this being a bad decision after all,_ Liz could tell by the way Max was talking. Because they were all worried about that same thing.

"Well, one thing I can assure you is that talking to that man was one of the strangest experiences I've ever had," Liz said about Dave, and that was some statement, being that she was married to an alien king and all… "I mean, the way he goes about our lives… it can be intimidating… But at the same time, he tells you things, you know… he makes you think about our lives… about everything we ever took for granted… I don't know… he can be seriously annoying at some points, but he has this way of asking things… of saying things… I think he's learning his limits though…" Liz finally finished, unsure of her last statement.

"Well, since Michael only shattered his window, maybe you're right," Max said with a small smile. Oh yeah, that was bothering him too.

"Dave was very casual about it," Liz insisted, as she had insisted the night before when Max had arrived at their apartment and Maria was leaving. "I think he was impressed by it, though."

Max barely nodded as he was cutting his pancake into pieces. "Jake was impressed too, when I shattered the door… For a second I could see it in his eyes…" he trailed off. So, this was the _other_ thing that was bothering him. Liz smiled, understanding it.

"You know," she said, looking straight at him, "you're tired, you're all stressed out, you're barely sleeping at all… of course you were going to lose control at some point or another." He didn't look up for a second or two.

"It wasn't a nice feeling, that's all," Max said, trying to let the subject go. Failing, he sighed. Liz knew beyond a shadow of a doubt that Max just losing control of his powers at Jake's lab had been a little too much. He had never lost control of his powers in his life. Not even when he had been drunk had he lost control over them. He had lost control over his fears, but certainly, his powers had worked perfectly well. He had been able to do whatever it was that he had wanted to do.

But yesterday he had lost it, the glass door shattering without him wanting it to.

"I could have hurt someone… I could have hurt Jake…" Max said, looking up to meet her eyes. The implications of hurting Jake were actually pretty high, Liz realized, especially with Dave, but still, Max was taking it too harsh on himself, and if he was expecting for that to not happen again, he better find some way of getting rid of all that extra energy.

"You should work your stress out," she said reassuringly. Max slightly moved his head to his right, frowning a little. "You know," Liz continued, "if you don't let go of all that energy, of course you are going to end up breaking something. Maybe… I don't know, maybe something at the gym might take your mind off of things…"

Max thought about it for some ten seconds. "The first time I really need to use my powers," Max said, letting go a small smile at her, "and Jake's not in the schedule."

She smiled as he smiled at his own thought. "I wonder, though…" Max said, his expression returning to a serious one, "what was bothering Jake so much yesterday… that he wanted to argue with Dave so bad?" Liz raised her eyebrows in response. "You should have heard him, Liz. He said he could kill Dave right then."

"What are you saying?" Liz said, remembering her own exchange of words with the famous Jake, how he had wanted to "pick a fight" with Dave. "That Jake and Dave are fighting over you three?"

"Maybe… But it could mean that whatever Dave wants is not what Jake wants… or it could be another million things… I just don't know what is going on between those two," Max quietly said, his pancakes forgotten, "but I'm not sure if being in the middle of such men is a good thing for us or not."

They both locked onto each other's eyes, neither one thinking -not by a far chance- that it was, at all, a good thing.

_TBC…_


	22. A Glimpse

Hey guys! Thanks for coming back to read! Enjoy the festivities!! And so… let's see how Isabel's interview goes ;)

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**XXII**

**A Glimpse**

"So, do we want to wonder why 8:30?" Maria said out loud as the group met in the hallway to go to the Gym. All except for Isabel, of course, whose meeting with Dave at 7:00 a.m. had been delayed an hour and a half. And all of them were wondering what it could mean.

Silence met Maria's words for about five seconds before Kyle said, "Maybe he wanted to sleep more…"

"Well, yeah, he and I both," Maria murmured, as Michael held her by the shoulder.

Isabel silently and bitterly laughed. If Dave was oversleeping, it would have been just her luck to miss him while attempting to dreamwalk him. But as they all started walking through the hallway, Isabel thought that she could use a little bit of sleep time herself.

"You all right?" Max asked her in a low whisper as they both fell behind in line. If she needed a little sleep time, Max needed a week of sleep time. He looked tired and a little weary but, as Isabel well knew, alien powers helped a ton in hiding the effects of long time-no-sleep.

"You didn't sleep either?" she asked, raising an eyebrow to her brother.

"Too much on my mind…" he simply said, shrugging. "I'll sleep once I'm sure things are going okay… especially tomorrow… with Maria's present…" Max almost whispered to her, so Maria wouldn't hear him.

Michael's bomb yesterday about shattering Dave's window had been heavy, but Dave's idea of Maria's present was another thing altogether… And Michael had been right to ponder for two days if the man was serious or not about that. The one thing that Michael had wanted, though, was that, if they were going to go through with it, to keep it a surprise to Maria. After all, it was the only big surprise he could really give her, and he was hoping that her day was going to be special… even if Dave's interview was in the middle of it. Michael could tease and roll his eyes all he wanted at Max and his little surprises to Liz, but Michael could be just as cheesy as her brother if he really thought it was worth it.

That was why they were whispering. Michael had looked better than the Evans siblings because he had managed to sleep through most of the night. Getting out all those thoughts he had kept in his head the days before, and being too tired to keep worrying in his mind, Michael had been able to just rest. He was tense now, of course, but knowing that he would spend the entire day by Maria's side had helped him a lot.

And Max was looking forward to spending the day with Liz too, Isabel bet. She longed for the days when she could spend entire days with Jesse… _Stop it!_ She told herself. _Stop it and get a grip on yourself. _She was not going to drown in self-pity.

"So," Max asked again, "are you okay?"

Isabel nodded, getting her confidence in check. She could do this, and she could do it right. In fact, she was going to be brilliant.

"I got it covered," she said with a bright smile, one that made Max smile at her as well. Of course, _I got it covered_ meant that she knew what Kyle, Michael and Liz had said, hadn't said and how far she could go with her own stories. It was starting to be hard to keep track, but since Dave seemed to be interested in different aspects of their lives, it wasn't that difficult. At least not yet… She wondered if her brother was going to be able to remember everything there was to remember by Saturday morning.

They arrived at the Gym just as Ray was arriving himself, a somewhat worried expression on his face as he walked, utterly lost in thought. It was then that he saw them walking toward him, and he rapidly let go of his worries and greeted them with a sincere smile. She somehow had gotten the impression from this man's dreams that Ray wasn't all that comfortable with them around… But yesterday's talk about how to escape had seemed to spark Ray's curiosity about how they could manage to just disappear.

Unfortunately, she was not going to be around to see if her instincts were right or not, because after saying good bye, she kept walking to the elevator that would take her up. Max had offered to walk her to that point when they were leaving the apartments sections, and Michael had offered later when they were saying good bye at the Gym –making Kyle complain that no one had offered to walk with him on Monday- but Isabel had told them both that she was perfectly fine by herself. She was a big girl and could do things on her own. If anything, they should be more worried about Dave's safety than hers. And so, she left.

She walked the long, deserted corridors finding it odd that no sound would come out of that floor, as if she were expecting to hear the echoes her footsteps would make, or should make. This place gave her the creeps. It reminded her of Meta Chem with all those doors and corridors and floors, and with the knowledge that somewhere in that place someone knew about them. It _truly_ gave her the creeps.

As usual, no one crossed her path, and all the doors opened when she stood in front of them, the ever present white card hanging from her neck. It all went uneventfully, except for the fact that she was mentally going over all her strategies again. To be careful with whatever it was that Dave wanted to know… and to be careful to ask what she wanted to know. But, for the most part, she was uncertain –curious, even- as to why had Dave taken an hour and a half out of their meeting. She wasn't sure if that meant that she would get out an hour and a half later as well, but that she would get to know soon enough.

Because Liz had been warned the day before that she should bring a sweater, Isabel had decided to wear one too. She didn't know what to expect from Dave, though, since his message to change the hour had been rather short: _"Change of hour: 8:30."_ Nothing else. No "bring a sweater", no "sorry for the short notice". Nothing more. It was rather rude too, had she been asked. But all these worries she left aside. If Dave was playing another kind of game with her, well, fine. Bring it on and all that.

She entered the elevator, waited as it went up, and four minutes later she got out and crossed the short hallway. _So close and yet so far away_, Isabel thought as she emerged into the living room where they had agreed to the deal. The door to the outside was there, and she was sure she could just walk out of here and spend a minute or two under the sun… But that would have to wait, because right now she was in no position to decide to go for a walk. For that matter, she wasn't even dressed to go out for said walk. Not that her powers couldn't arrange that, of course, but she let the idea go.

Instead, she took a minute or two to gather her thoughts, to remain calm and, taking one last deep breath, she went in. The door made no sound as it slid open into the carpeted room, the famous dark desk displaying Dave's equally famous puzzle, with the white lamp on the ceiling, the numbers on the wall at her right, the cupboard at her left, and no Dave in sight.

Isabel froze, thinking for a second that she had gotten it all wrong. She checked her wrist watch: 8:26a.m., which made her frown. She was early, okay, but four minutes barely constituted _too_ early.

As if answering her thoughts, Dave did appear in the room. He had been behind his desk and, as Isabel would see a second later, he had been picking up fallen pieces from the floor. His hand emerged first from behind, leaving four or five pieces, and Isabel took notice that Dave did take care with his appearance. His hand wasn't exactly perfectly manicured, but it was close. _Maybe he hasn't had time to re-do them?_ Isabel wondered as Dave's hand disappeared again behind the desk. It re-emerged a moment later, this time Dave's head coming into view as well. She wondered too if he dyed his hair, because it was jet black with no hint of gray anywhere. His features weren't too sharp or too soft, though they were finely shaped, his skin a tad dark, maybe a tan?

She couldn't deny that Dave was handsome. She knew he had to be around 35 years old because he had told Liz that his friendship with Jake had been going on for 32, but if Isabel had been told that he was 30, she would have believed it. For just an instant, Dave saw her, and Isabel could have sworn that she saw apprehension in the man's hazel eyes. But it was all too fast, as he lowered again behind the desk, telling Isabel to please come in.

"Sorry for the mess," he said, getting up, still not quite looking at her, putting six pieces on the desk which he had been retrieving from the floor.

She now took notice that by her side, at her left corner, pieces were arranged in an odd way. The frame -that was completed in all other parts- was distorted, as if someone had sat on it, or passed an angry hand over it.

"I want to apologize for the sudden change of hour," Dave started to say, signaling with his right hand that she should take a seat.

Isabel lost no time in changing into charming mode, and giving him a small smile –after all, she didn't want to overdo it- she approached her seat. He returned a somewhat shy smile, but for one second Isabel noticed it was a perfect smile: all teeth in place, and very white too. A warm smile. No one would have believed that Dave's father had been British if he had been judged by his overbite. No, by all means Dave had inherited his mother's smile –who had been definitely and certainly not British- but this, of course, Isabel didn't know. Now Dave was looking at her, whatever had caused him apprehension gone from his eyes.

"Something came up that I hadn't foreseen," he apologized, waiting for Isabel to sit before sitting himself. But before she took a seat, Isabel spotted one piece on the floor. "Oh, you missed one," she said, as she bent to get the piece.

Of all the things she had thought she could say to learn something from this man, for all the hours she had been trying to dreamwalk him, it never occurred to her that she was going to get information by using another of her powers. It never occurred to her that she could get a flash by touching one of Dave's puzzle pieces. But that was exactly what she got as she touched the piece, out of Dave's sight, and definitely out of Dave's knowledge.

_It was Dave holding the piece then, as Jake was flipping pieces on the other side of the room, where Dave's seat was, but Dave was not paying attention to any of Jake's words. The room was much colder, and he felt his air being cut, that hideous wheezing coming out of his constricted throat. He was having an asthma attack, and God, how he hated that. He hated being sick, he hated knowing he was sick, so he had ignored all his symptoms all night long, as if ignoring them would make them disappear. The cold that had been invading his office since Michael had shattered his window was finally enough to make him have an attack though, so he stumbled into the desk's corner, gasping for air, making all the pieces of the frame go flying everywhere. As Jake looked at him, both men locking onto each other's eyes, Jake let go of his pieces in a rush to come to his aid. _

"_Where's your inhaler?!" Jake asked, worried, his eyes wide, as Dave kept fighting to breathe. _

"_In… desk…" Dave finally was able to say, seeing Jake turn around and search all the compartments that Dave knew where there. _

"_Goddamn it David, you are supposed to have it with you all the time!" Jake desperately said, frantically searching for Dave's spray, which would allow him to breathe. As Jake found it, Dave let go the piece he was holding in order to reach for the "goddamned medicine", which was exactly his last thought before the flash faded as the piece hit the floor. _

It didn't take more than two seconds, but Isabel could feel the need for air herself. She didn't have a sense of time right at that moment, just a sense of dread, of knowing how easily she could die. No, not _she_, how easily _Dave_ could die. But hadn't Jake called him _David_ instead of _Dave_?

"Is something wrong?" Dave's words came crashing into her musings, making her focus on where she was, still kneeling on the floor. She steadily stood up –not too slow, but not too fast either- and, as she put the piece over the desk, she just said, "I was looking to see if there were other pieces around."

Dave smiled at her, a small but genuine smile of gratitude. "Well, thank you. It's really awful to see one's puzzle incomplete."

"Sure," she said, as she took her seat, nervously clasping her hands in her lap, where Dave wouldn't be able to see them. But her mind was somewhere else. _What_ had she seen exactly? That Dave was asthmatic? Did he want Max to heal him then? And why the change of names? Did it even matter since "Dave" from "David" wasn't exactly a monumental change? And if he was asthmatic, then it would also mean that he was human, and not alien like she had been thinking the whole week… then, why couldn't she dreamwalk—

"So," Dave started, as silence was threatening to intrude, "what do you want me to tell you first?"

She frowned. "What do you mean?" she asked, momentarily forgetting her flash, her voice not betraying the fact that she was so nervous at all the possibilities that Dave's question implied.

"Well, you know I hold some of the answers to questions that have been rounding your mind for the past seven months. I know you want those answers just as badly as I want mine… Maybe even more."

She clasped her hands harder. What was Dave playing here? An exchange of knowledge? She just stared at him, afraid of finding answers she didn't want to hear, afraid of saying one wrong word to this man. She let go of the flash she had just gotten and focused on remembering everything she had to remember. That flash was irrelevant right now. She would get to discuss it later with everyone else.

"So, what do you want to know?" Dave pressed. Maybe he sensed that she didn't want to talk at all. And then, she thought better of it… Maybe she could turn the tables for once.

"What do you want from us?" Well, if Dave wanted questions, she could think of a few she really needed some answers to, and that didn't involve her family.

For a whole minute Dave just stared at her, hardly blinking, hardly breathing, hardly even moving, just thinking. He put his left hand over his mouth, leaning over the chair's arm, in a gesture that reflected that he was carefully analyzing the situation. Finally, he spoke at length.

"Do you guys have some sort of poll or bet going on about if I'm going to change what I've already told Kyle, Michael and Liz? Because frankly, I'm finding it difficult to say the same thing over and over again with different words."

Isabel pressed her lips hard, not letting a word out. She clasped her hands tightly too. She was not going to fall into this man's verbal traps. Dave sighed, this time leaning back against his chair, his eyes still thoughtful.

"Isabel Amanda Evans," he started, as if he were reading out loud, "found by Philip and Diane Evans by the side of the road at –presumably- age 6 with another boy. She has no recollection of her past, nor did she know how to talk, or behave like any other 6-year-old would. Neither did the boy."

Isabel swallowed hard. She didn't like where this was going.

"They are both adopted as brother and sister, though no one can tell if that's their true relationship. They catch up sooner than everyone expected, though, as they start talking, start playing. A year after, pretty much everyone has forgotten their strange origins and the fact that they didn't know a thing about the world." Dave's voice was even, not too high, or too low. But it felt cold, emotionless. He was definitely reciting to her what she would bet was her "file".

"As she grows up, she fits perfectly well into school. Makes friends easily. As soon as she's old enough, she starts helping at the nursing home. Christmas is actually the best time of the year to find her doing community service, although many of these activities are not common knowledge."

He didn't look at her as he was talking. He didn't seem to care if she was there or not. And she didn't want to keep hearing Dave's cold account of events, account of her life, not in that way, but she couldn't think of anything to shut the man off. She diverted her eyes to the puzzle in front, and suddenly had the urge to blow it up. But she was _not_ going to let Dave intimidate her.

"By the time she enters High School, she's among the most popular girls, even for a freshman. Has a natural talent for literature, very high verbal aptitudes, though she declines to participate in the theater club. She might act as if she doesn't care about anything other than being fashionable, nevertheless, she actually has a startling good record in all her subjects, including math, even if she has complained of an inability to understand the subject."

Her eyes left the puzzle, and turned to the window behind Dave, where snow was falling. The room wasn't as cold as it had been in her flash, and that was because the window Michael had shattered was covered with a transparent plastic or something like that. She could so easily picture Michael shattering the whole thing, because she herself was imagining it very clearly in her mind. _Get a grip on yourself, _Isabel thought for a moment, _he's just saying what you already know._ But it still felt _very_ uncomfortable to know how someone could have her life on file. Just like that, so impersonal.

"As a testimony to her good school records, she graduates one year early. And against all odds, she marries Jesse Ramirez barely a year afterwards."

Silence. There it was, her husband's name. Dave was bringing Jesse up, but she was so unsure of how things would go. Isabel's eyes met with Dave's, still not saying a word.

"What is missing from there?" he suddenly asked, losing that thoughtful veil that had settled on his eyes as he had been telling her a very brief –and highly edited- summary of her life. Yet, Isabel remained silent.

"What is missing," Dave continued as he knew that she wouldn't answer him, "is everything that matters. _That's_ what I want from you. To fill in the blanks of all these files and research and information. Why did you marry Jesse so soon? And how did he find out? What did you tell your parents? Why would you—"

"Why do you care so much about our lives?" Isabel boldly asked, cutting Dave off mid-sentence, her voice coming icily, giving Dave an idea of why she had been called The Ice Princess not so long ago.

"At the risk of losing all my windows," Dave said after considering his answer, "before you agreed to marry Jesse, did you check on him? Make sure he wasn't an FBI agent? Make sure he was who you wanted him to be?" She didn't nod. She couldn't. Of course she had done more than just "check" on him… And then Max had taken the checking just a little too far, even dragging Michael into it. But no, she was not going to say that now.

"Exactly," Dave said as if reading her mind. "You needed to fill in the blanks of everything you didn't know about him. That's why I need to fill in the blanks too. To get to know you. To know what to expect. To know how to prevent my windows from being shattered, or to make sure Jake's office doesn't end up in a million pieces."

It had been meant as a joke, but Isabel could easily read the unspoken message about the fact that Dave knew how dangerous they could really be if they wanted to. Or, like in Max's case, how dangerous they could be if they lost control. That was still such an odd statement. Max just _didn't _lose control. She shook the thought off. She also got the impression that Dave wasn't too happy about it. Like he was warning her that these things were highly important and would not –or should not- happen at all.

"Shouldn't you have made sure of all that _before_ bringing us here?"

Dave let go a small smile. "When you married Jesse, had you finished all your check ups? Did you know everything there was to know about him? Had you even imagined how Jesse would take the truth about you?"

"This is so unfair," Isabel whispered, but she held her gaze to Dave's eyes. He lost his smile, a little bit uncertain of what she had said, and his expression turned serious. "You cannot compare my love with Jesse to what you are doing to us. We are just a project to you, whatever that means."

"I am not comparing your feelings, just the fact that you needed to know then, just like I need to know now, to be on the safe side of things," Dave calmly pointed out.

"As if you really care about that," Isabel stated. "You keep playing with us, with what we want, and what we feel, and for what? So you can say 'I know you'? What do you know about our feelings to begin with… And why would you care about them?" she said, reproachfully.

Dave kept silent, staring at her but not really seeing her, as if he were absent or something, lost somewhere in his mind.

"Jesse is fine," he finally said, all his attention back to her. Isabel could feel her heart racing in her chest. Dave had just completely changed the subject, but she didn't care. This was it. This was exactly what she had been wanting –and dreading- to hear for so long now. And Dave was just about to tell her, whether she liked it or not, how things had been for her husband since the moment she had let him go.

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Patterns. Isabel was wearing a damned sweater with a damned pattern on it, and it had driven him nuts for the first six seconds when he had seen her standing in front of the door. Dave had practically ducked behind his desk to get his thoughts straight and let the pattern go. Usually, he didn't have problems with patterns on things, was used to dismissing them, but his mind wasn't totally clear this morning. So, the problem with Isabel wearing a pattern was that he had lost his train of thought for a minute or two, which had made him start the wrong way. And now he was rushing into things, Dave knew, but just as he had thought before, he was walking a very thin line right now, patterns or no patterns.

Dave's strategy to get these kids talking had been to ask –or do- unexpected things first. The puzzle had worked with Kyle. Asking Michael how he had been convinced had started out well, until all had gone to hell five minutes later… And the diamond that was a key to who knew what had worked with Liz.

But this time around, Dave had miscalculated. He had been counting so intently on Isabel wanting to know about her parents or Jesse that he hadn't been prepared for Isabel's first question: What did he want from them? It wasn't that by now the question was getting old –which had triggered his brief sarcastic comment about the poll- but because it meant that they weren't buying his explanation at all.

It hadn't been that he was expecting them to fully believe it, it was that he hadn't thought they would all ask it, time and again. He couldn't change the version now, so he had to come up with creative ways of it sounding even more plausible than he had first thought it sounded.

But Isabel was not falling for it, so he had just pretty much jumped two hours ahead of what he had planned, and decided to tell her about Jesse. It was risky at this point of their conversation, especially because it made him give the advantage to her. All the same, he had to change subjects now, to divert her attention for a little time from why he wanted them here, and why he was so interested in their relationships, so he could retake the subject again on his own terms later on. Besides, bringing Jesse into the conversation was a card he had to play to earn her trust, which had been exactly what he had decided last night, he reminded himself, so it couldn't be a bad move.

"Where is he?" Isabel asked as Dave was contemplating where exactly to begin.

"Right this moment he should be stuck in New York's JFK airport because all flights were cancelled due to a snow storm."

"You are watching him," Isabel stated, not afraid, and certainly not surprised.

"Yes and no," Dave answered, moving his eyes a little to her right. "He works for one of my companies. That's why I know he's stuck there. That's why I get to know where he is all the time. He's a damned good lawyer, you know."

"He works for you?" Isabel asked, frowning. This time she was unsure if she liked what she was hearing or not.

"Not directly. You see, when you guys left Roswell, Jesse left an hour later. He barely made it out of New Mexico with all the chaos that followed your departure. The Special Unit thought he was traveling with you, so by the time they figured out he wasn't, he was already taking a cab outside Boston's airport."

"Boston?" Isabel asked, a little surprised. Though Dave didn't know, Isabel had always assumed that Jesse hadn't gone through with their original plan. How could he? How could Jesse have done that with all that was happening and the FBI?

"Boston," Dave repeated, "he has really good friends there. Within a week, Jesse had a new last name, new social security number, new life."

"So he moved on…" Isabel said, whispered really, her eyes taking a downcast look.

"He disappeared," Dave corrected her. "It took me some time to find him, to tell you the truth. He certainly does know how to manage the trick of becoming someone else."

"But you found him all the same," Isabel's eyes met with his. He gave her a very small half smile.

"I seem to have a talent for finding people, yes," he tried to joke, more out of habit than to ease his guest, which only earned him a subtle glare. "He needed a job, I needed to keep him in my sight," he rapidly continued, so Isabel wouldn't think he was disrespecting her feelings or anything. Gosh, dealing with women could turn out to be so complicated.

"How long has he been working for you?" Isabel asked. Now that they were on the subject, she certainly wasn't going to drop it.

"Five months and 18 days," he said, smiling. He knew people found it annoying that he could say hours and minutes too, -not to mention seconds- so he had made a point about twenty-two years ago to stop saying that except if Jake was the only one around. Sometimes he let it slip with Ray too, but just sometimes.

Twenty-two years, three months, seven hours, twenty-four minutes, and ten seconds ago to be precise… eleven… twelve… he shook the thought. This was _not_ the moment to keep that in his conscious mind.

"Five months…" Isabel repeated. They had been on the run for seven, Dave knew.

Seven months, four days—_stop it! _He only got carried away like that when his focus wasn't on what it was supposed to be. He was having more than a little trouble concentrating now because he had other things on his mind. Jake had almost fulminated him with his eyes when Dave had said that he wasn't going to cancel his meeting with Isabel for a stupid asthma attack.

"_You can't risk your health over something like this!" Jake had all but shouted to him at the infirmary, as Dave was trying to regain control over his lungs, his second asthma attack in less than half an hour barely receding now._

Oh, he would risk more than his health over something like this, Dave quietly thought. But his concentration was divided between what had happened and what was happening. Asthma attacks always left his mind fuzzy. That was why Isabel's sweater had distracted him so much to begin with. He focused on the subject at hand, the count getting seemingly lost at the back of his mind.

"He was searching for a job, but his options were very limited," Dave kept telling Isabel about Jesse, about why her husband had ended up working for him. "When he was hired, he was told that a friend of a friend had recommended him. He thought his friends had gone way too far in helping him, but accepted. He was suspicious, though, that much I can tell you."

"But he's fine now… he has a job… he's living again…" Isabel said out loud, though to Dave it was obvious she was talking entirely to herself.

"He's never stopped being cautious," Dave continued. There was something Isabel was missing from the entire picture, though. The thing that would matter to her the most.

"He knows you are watching him?" she asked, concerned.

"If he knows, my crew would be out of business," Dave said with the smallest of smiles. "No, he knows that the FBI can find him. But Isabel, in all those five months and eighteen days, he has always shown up to work wearing his wedding ring." Isabel's eyes grew slightly round, but as hard as she tried to pretend this was something that didn't affect her, her expression betrayed her by showing surprise, even a hint of happiness.

"He's fine. You are making sure he's fine, right?" Isabel said, trying to divert the subject from what it probably meant that Jesse was still wearing his wedding ring. That he still thought of her as his wife.

"He's a really good lawyer, Isabel. Even if he wasn't included in your deal, I would still keep him. Even if he moved from this company, I would make sure he landed in another one of mine. I don't like to see people like him go."

Dave meant that. He had known that Jesse was good at what he did, but he hadn't known how _good_. A small practice in Roswell, New Mexico was hardly a challenge for someone of Jesse's talents. But in the big, bad world, Jesse had proven to have a shark's instincts for finding his way through the legal system. And he had only been working for his company less than half a year.

"But when we decide to leave, you'll leave him alone too, that's how this deal works, right?" Isabel cautiously asked. She had a point there. She wasn't talking about if they broke the contract, which would mean Dave would just vanish, leaving Jesse very alone. No, she was talking about when they finally left this place the right way. She still was lacking a little detail that was mighty relevant here, though. Dave smiled.

"Of course. But you know Isabel, I can bring him here too. In fact, I think he should be here."

"What do you mean?" Isabel's voice sounded calm, if cautious, her expression neutral now, though Dave knew she wasn't certain how to take this news, what to make of his words.

"Well, Max has Liz, Michael has Maria… I can't help Kyle in this department, but… part of a 'normal' life is to have your husband with you."

"No," Isabel coldly answered. "I will not drag Jesse into this again."

"'Drag' might be a little bit of a stretch," Dave said slowly. "You should give him the choice of being back with you or not. That's what marriages are for, right? You decide as a couple?"

"Don't play with my feelings for Jesse. Hell, don't even try to use him like this," Isabel said, barely under control. He was losing his advantage here, and he knew it. How had he miscalculated so damned much? Numbers started to intrude on his mind. He pushed them back. Maybe Jake had been right, he should have re-scheduled this whole thing for a day later, and not just an hour and a half later.

"You talk about couples, when I bet you don't even know what family is!" Isabel ended, not exactly losing it, but Dave could almost feel his windows trembling behind him all the same. She had bottled up way too much for way too long, and now he had just taken the wrong approach.

"You don't have to decide right this moment," Dave firmly said, cutting all emotional tones from his voice, all serious now. It would make Isabel lose her emotional tone as well -he hoped- and he needed to regain some neutral terrain here. For all it had been worth, he now had to start his approach all over again. "You can choose to not ever contact him, or five years from now you can ask me where he is and I will tell you. But I'm serious about this. He'll be a lot safer down here with you than looking over his shoulder every two minutes, wondering if you are alive or not. He's living in his own hell, and you know that."

"What do you know about what we are living through…" Isabel said losing her temper, shaking her head a little, her eyes on his puzzle, though she wasn't really looking at anything at all.

"I know you are still wearing your wedding ring too. And I know you haven't contacted him. It doesn't take a genius to know you two are going through similar experiences." Dave answered, avoiding the fact that, since he wasn't married, he couldn't really know what kind of hell they were going through.

Now that he was thinking about it, not even in his make-believe life he had told Jake about had he chosen to be married…

"What… why do you want Jesse here?" Isabel asked, regaining her glacial stare, though her eyes were still betraying her a little. She wanted to know so badly about anything and everything Jesse had done. It didn't take a genius to know that either.

"Because it's part of my side of the deal," Dave explained. Lifting his left hand to his chin, he contemplated Isabel for a couple of seconds. "It's like… you go to Jake's lab, but you also do that on time. You are polite with him. You are polite with the people around you. That's not in the deal, but you do so because it makes things easier. It is not implied, but you still do it," he said with a small smile. "I, on the other hand, don't _want_ Jesse here, but I know it would make things easier for you, and probably for him too."

Isabel shook her head no. She was not going to accept what he was saying, but all the same, it wasn't as if he was going to bring Jesse here against her or Jesse's will. Jesse was not part of his plan in the great scheme of things, but he was an important detail that had to be addressed.

"I guess you can say it's the polite thing to do, to give you the choice." Isabel didn't say anything to him, and Dave guessed that it was because she didn't know if he was being honest or not. Or maybe she didn't want to face the option of bringing her husband back into her life... He shrugged to dismiss the subject.

"It's up to you. Whenever you want to let him know you are okay, you can call him."

"Just like that? No secret passwords or arranged times?" Isabel said with no little sarcasm. Though Dave would always love a sarcasm game, he let it go. This was not the person, and definitely not the time, to do so.

"Just like that. Jesse's number has already been cleared by the Network Keepers. You can reach him whenever you want. _But_," Dave emphatically said, "if and when you decide to contact him, don't tell him too many details about this place. If he wants to come, we'll arrange it. But if you are not thinking along those lines, be very careful with what you say to him."

"You make it sound so simple," Isabel barely said out loud. No, that was exactly why he hadn't seen himself married in that make-believe life: Love was anything but simple. And the proof of that was staring right at him, probably trying to decide if calling her loved one meant lifting an overwhelming weight from Jesse's shoulders, or just ruining his life.

-------------------------------------------------------------

"She's getting really good at that," Max commented as he and Michael watched Maria exercise with the punching bag, a thin layer of sweat covering her forehead, all her concentration pinned on keeping her rhythm as Ray had told her earlier that morning. She truly seemed to be enjoying taking out all her energy on the poor thing.

It was around 9:30 a.m. now and things at the Gym had gone pretty smoothly. Kyle had gone with Liz to find some sodas as Max and Michael were taking a break after having finished the first part of Ray's routine, and gosh, they were so out of shape. He couldn't remember feeling like that since he had started exercising ages ago back in Roswell. Now he knew what Liz had been complaining about, he just couldn't understand why she wouldn't let him heal her sore muscles away. Ray had gone to talk to some other guys, and so now they –Max and Michael- were alone, watching Maria some 20 feet away taking out all her energy on the punching bag. And she was _definitely_ getting good at that.

Still, Max had mixed feelings about everything that was happening today. Part of him was anxious about his sister up there with Dave, though he knew that Isabel was perfectly capable of defending herself, both physically and verbally. And part of him was glad he wasn't at the lab, trying to decide if Jake was really trying to make things work for them, or if he was working on some dark plan along with Dave. But most of all, he was relieved to be with the other four members of his group. In one word, he felt in control. Or at least in more control than he had felt in the past six days.

"Hmm," was all Michael's response as he kept watching Maria punching her frustration out. "She's been quiet lately too," he added, his eyes still pinned on her.

_Yes, she has,_ Max silently thought. With Maria, there were two ways of knowing something was bothering her: She said so to your face, or she went quiet. He definitely preferred the former and not the latter. And he didn't have to ask Michael to know he was thinking along the same lines. When Maria went silent, it didn't mean good things.

"Maybe she's worried about tomorrow's interview," Max offered. At least he was thankful Dave's idea of Maria's present involved having Michael occupied with something. With a little luck, that something would last all morning long. Otherwise, Michael was going to be worse than twelve lions pacing back and forth in a small cage.

"Maybe…" Michael somehow agreed, though he didn't sound as if he were entirely certain that was the reason. Honestly, Max would have bet that Maria was worried about Michael more than her own interview, but that would be the last thing Michael would have wanted to know. Or more likely, wanted to hear out loud.

Maria had been quiet the day before, and that was why Liz had suggested that she and Maria have a talk while the aliens regrouped on what was going on with Jake and the lab. His wife hadn't said much about what they had talked about though, "girl talk" or something was all that Liz had said, and so he hadn't asked any more. But Maria was quiet today too.

"Isabel's been quiet as well…" Michael said, opening his second bottle of water. Now, _this_ Max had noticed for more than just a day. She had been quiet all week long. "And I'm not sure if it was all because of her interview today," Michael added before taking a good long drink.

"We all have a lot on our minds," Max said, though he wasn't so sure if he wanted to know what Michael was suspecting. Because if Isabel was worried about something she had gotten to know, let's say, by dreamwalking, Max knew she would have told them. Still, something was bothering his sister too.

"Yeah…" Michael simply said. Max guessed that Michael only wanted him to know something along the lines of "I've noticed, have you?" and therefore they both would be more alert. "She'll have a lot more on her mind after this day is over," Michael ended, as he took another long drink.

_Jesse_. That was what his sister would have on her mind, had had on her mind actually, all this time. He had wondered too sometimes what had become of his brother-in-law. If Liz hadn't had powers and had stayed behind, Max didn't know what he would have done. Though he hadn't really understood –and didn't understand right to that moment- why Isabel had told Jesse to not come with them, he had accepted his sister's choice. He had never asked Isabel why she had done it. If she wanted to talk about Jesse, he would listen, but that was as far as he would go concerning that. He didn't want to upset her, especially when his wife was traveling with him. He wondered for a moment how things would have been if Jesse were there… or if Jesse would have accepted this deal or not.

His thoughts were interrupted when Michael lightly punched him in the ribs to get his attention. It took him a second, but then he followed Michael's line of sight to find someone staring at them: A slender young man, with green eyes and very pale skin. But what really gave him away was the "Hackers are the true rulers of the world" t-shirt he was wearing. Kyle had described to them this stranger that had appeared in his apartment on Sunday morning in enough detail to have no doubt who was the tall and slightly older guy who was standing barely ten feet away from them now: Jeremy.

_Network Keeper_ Jeremy, to be exact. The same one who was intrigued beyond doubt about why they knew Dave. Max could feel Michael tensing at his side, and for one instant Max wasn't sure if he wanted to meet this Jeremy or not. Not when they were still so unsure of so many things.

But regardless of Max's indecision, Jeremy glanced sideways a couple of times, as if making sure no one was within earshot, and casually walked towards them.

"Hey," Jeremy said nonchalantly.

"Hey," Michael answered back, with the same tone. Jeremy turned around and leaned over the same counter they were, a small wall that divided the machine section from the boxing section, leaving Michael in the middle of Jeremy and Max. Michael gave him a warning look when he noticed that Jeremy was looking at Maria. But Jeremy hadn't really been paying attention to Maria, Max knew, because he was way too eager to talk. He was just looking in Maria's direction. Jeremy was waiting for something to happen. And, honestly, so were they.

Finally, Jeremy leaned over in a conspiratorial way, his green eyes still on the same point, probably on the far wall.

"I know the truth about you," he said with pride.

_What?_ Max looked at him, barely keeping his expression serious, his mouth shut. Rule number one when you have a secret and someone says they know what that secret is: Never assume they actually _know_ it.

"The truth about us?" he asked, trying to sound casual, as if whatever the answer were, he couldn't care less. Michael turned to look at Jeremy as well, but slowly returned to watch as Maria was taking a short break. He sipped from his bottle as if he weren't at all interested in what was going on between Max and Jeremy.

"Yeah, you don't have to pretend..." Jeremy lowered his voice even more, and this time he did turn to look at Max, "I know that you are Messengers."

"Messengers?" Michael asked with a confused look, no longer feigning indifference. "What the hell do we look like?"

"You look like Messengers," Jeremy answered still with a glowing pride, still in that low tone. "You know, _Dave's_ Messengers. I never thought I would meet one, though… they are believed to be so… elusive…"

"Wait a second," Max said, now really interested. "What exactly is a Messenger?" he asked, frowning. Conspiracy theories or no conspiracy theories, Max –and Michael- wouldn't miss anything this guy, this Network Keeper, had to say.

"Oh, come on!" Jeremy exclaimed, all his secrecy going down the sewer for an instant. "You know…" he said a second later, more calm now, lowering his voice again, "the ones that are in direct contact with Dave. The ones who know the secret projects, the bringers of news…"

"You mean some sort of spies?" Michael said, narrowing his eyes. Some 20 feet away, Maria resumed her punching.

"You tell me," Jeremy said, with the hugest smile Max had ever seen on anyone. "What do you do?"

"Why do you think we are Messengers?" Max asked, now more than just intrigued. How many things were in Dave's universe, for Pete's sake?

Jeremy lost the smile, and stared at them as if he were measuring something. His expression changed from one of perfect triumph to one of cautiousness.

"White Cards? Common names? Young faces? Level Six is written all over you…"

"You mean that everyone who has a White Card is a Messenger?" Max resumed for Jeremy. It didn't really make sense, but then again, what did he know about Messengers to begin with?

"Don't turn my words around," Jeremy said, slightly exasperated now. "I've been trying to figure you guys out the whole week. You just dropped out of nowhere, and you _do_ know each other. It's not like all the other groups, who were practically strangers among themselves. You are even married!" Jeremy whispered in a harsh tone, his eyes accusingly on Max's wedding ring, but he also stopped in the middle of his rage. "Messengers marry?" he said, more to himself than to Michael and Max.

Michael turned a somewhat worried and confused look to Max, who barely shrugged in response. For one instant, Max thought about what Dave had told Liz about the Network Keepers and the whole _The Matrix_ thing. Maybe Jeremy was a little too over the edge.

"It doesn't matter," Jeremy said, getting out of his thoughts, "I'm damn sure that you are what I say you are," he dramatically said, emphasizing his words with his index finger pointing to the floor.

"Don't be stupid, we aren't!" Michael said, finally losing his temper. Jeremy looked at him with hurt eyes, looking oddly enough younger than they were. "But what else can you tell us about these Messengers?" Michael continued, ignoring Jeremy's expression. Uncharacteristically though, Jeremy kept quiet this time.

Max glanced at Michael once more and then turned to look at Jeremy. "We are sort of into finding what's up with Dave too," Max quietly told the Network Keeper. "Yes, we have Level Six passes, but it doesn't mean we… _know _things."

Jeremy's eyes lit up this time. "What are you doing on a Level Six project?" he excitedly asked, the Messengers apparently forgotten. Maybe Jeremy was just fishing for some answers, Max thought, making him feel uncomfortable around this guy.

"We work at genetics," Michael said frowning, as if it were obvious. Probably Michael didn't like where Jeremy was going either, and had followed Dave's advice about saying just that when asked what they did on the complex. But Jeremy's eyes didn't unglue from them. Clearly, he was waiting on them to elaborate. "It's boring stuff," Michael curtly said.

The Network Keeper narrowed his eyes. For a whole minute none of them said a thing. "What do you know about Dave?" Jeremy finally asked, intrigued.

"That no matter what we say it will contradict something someone else has said," Michael accurately answered, making Max realize how good Michael's instincts and appreciations of Dave's tactics were. Michael had summed up their situation pretty well concerning what they had gathered so far about how Dave handled his "anonymous" status.

Jeremy nodded in agreement as well. "Yes, yes, you are right. I think the same thing. He leaves pieces here and there that contradict each other. That makes us, Network Keepers, keep chasing shadows… Anything is possible with him…" Jeremy ended with admiration. Yep, the _Matrix_ thing was written all over this guy's face..

"Like you would believe Dave is putting a 15,000 piece puzzle together right over your head," Michael sarcastically said. But Jeremy was no longer looking at him, his eyes lost in space, in Maria's direction again, which made Michael scowl at him again for looking in his girl's direction.

"What about Messengers?" Max asked, trying to get the conversation back to their first subject. He was sure they were going to get nowhere with the whole Dave discussion right now, but _Messengers_ was a term that they had never heard before. Somehow, it sounded important.

"What about them?" Jeremy asked, shaking his head a little.

"Why was it so important to you that we were?"

"Because Network Keepers are here, when Messengers are out there…" Jeremy said, his eyes still lost in thought, but as he was speaking he turned to look at Max. "Messengers know things that no one else gets to know… Imagine if you and I could work together… we would get to know Dave…"

"_If _we were Messengers," Michael corrected him, raising his right eyebrow.

"…Between what you know and what we know," Jeremy continued as if Michael hadn't said a thing, "we could decipher his plans. We would make a wonderful team," Jeremy ended, glowing again with pride.

"You seem so sure of that," Michael said, crossing his arms in front of his chest, a little bit annoyed that Jeremy just wouldn't let it go.

"Come on! Messengers gather information from out there. Network Keepers gather information from within. Dave can't elude us forever!"

"If your plan is so brilliant why haven't you contacted any other Messenger by now?" Michael asked, his arms still crossed.

"Because you are so freakin' impossible to find!" Jeremy said exasperated since it was so "freakin'" obvious what he had just said. Max and Michael remained silent, staring at him. Frankly, Jeremy looked a little bit over the edge right now. He must have sensed this because, taking a deep breath and calming himself, he continued, "Okay, have it your way. You're not Messengers, fine. But whenever you want to… 'compare notes', I'll be there… I've been following his tracks for six years now, I can wait a little longer."

So Jeremy turned around and walked away as quietly as he had approached them, Michael and Max staring at his back.

"That was weird…" Michael muttered, still watching in the direction Jeremy had gone.

Messengers Max was thinking now. Was Ray one? He suddenly wondered, or had he been one? Or had the people who had watched them been ones? And were Messengers as obsessed with finding out about Dave as Network Keepers were? Well, as Jeremy had said, Messengers were out there, not in here, so it was probably going to be impossible to get to talk to one, let alone get any information about Dave.

"What do you think you have to do to be a Messenger?" Michael asked out of the blue, opening his third bottle of water, his eyes returning to Maria. In a couple of minutes he would walk to her and help her with the punching bag. But in that instant Max turned to look at Michael. First, he had said he would go and see what the Network Keepers could tell him, and now Messengers? Michael was very serious about finding out about Dave, that was for sure.

"Whatever it is," Max answered, opening the last bottle of water they had, "I guess it can't be easy." And for a long time, for reasons Max could never put his finger on, he kept wondering about that question: _What do you think you have to do to be a Messenger?_


	23. Caution

Hey guys!! Hope everyone had a great time these holidays :) As usual, thanks a lot for the reviews! Let's hope this part makes justice to Michael and Maria. The gods know how hard they are to get "right" :p

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**XXIII**

**Caution**

"So, spill," Kyle said as soon as the two of them left the Gym in search for beverages. Liz gave him a sideways glance which was a dead giveaway that there was something actually qualifying as spill-like.

"Come on," Kyle continued as Liz kept silent and didn't look at him, "I know there's something. Why else would you ask me to go with you to the Cafeteria instead of Evans?"

"Kyle, technically, I'm an 'Evans' too…" Liz said, still avoiding his eyes. Something was definitely eating the girl up.

"Which only furthers my point. Mrs. Evans not asking Mr. Evans…? So, what's up?"

Liz chewed her lower lip. "It's nothing…" she said. Kyle just arched his left eyebrow as they both entered the surprisingly full Cafeteria.

"You ever seen so many people in here?" Kyle asked, as he looked at his watch: 9:45 a.m.

"Maybe today there's some special event or something?" Liz wondered out loud, almost as if she were interested. _Almost._ Kyle noted that her attention wasn't all that much on their surroundings. Her eyes seemed lost in space. Well, whatever was going on in the Cafeteria, they would surely get to know sooner or later. He focused his attention on Liz again.

"Is there something wrong?" Kyle asked, knowing that Liz's look only meant she was trying extra hard to get to know what was going on in Max's side. Liz sighed in frustration.

"I mean," Kyle said to ease his friend's tension, "if you are worried that those two blondes were checking out your husband, I gotta tell you Liz, they were. I was checking them out to."

For a moment, it seemed to work. Liz turned to look at Kyle, a little surprised. Then, letting go the smallest of laughs and shaking her head a little, she said to Kyle, "No, it's nothing like that…"

They both headed towards the ever present buffet that was in the middle of the room against the left wall. The place could comfortably hold 350 people inside, and there seemed to be around 400. For the first time they had been in this place, they felt crowded. People were chatting animatedly around tables in more accents than they had ever heard. Though everyone was speaking English.

"It's just that this morning," Liz started to say as they neared the drinks and sodas, "there was something odd with Max's connection."

"Odd?" Kyle asked, frowning. "What do you mean 'odd'?"

"I don't know… like it was… low But that feeling faded away and things got back to normal. So I was trying to see how would it feel if I was away from Max."

"And?" Kyle urged Liz. This was serious trouble. If Liz lost her connection to Max it wouldn't be good news.

"Well," Liz said, wrinkling her nose slightly, "it's still a bit off, but nothing near what it was this morning. I think it's getting back to normal…"

"What did Max say?" Kyle questioned as he took two Peach Snapples and was searching for another flavor.

"He hasn't said anything," Liz answered getting two bottles of water. "And I don't know if it is because he doesn't want to worry me or because he isn't feeling anything unusual to begin with…"

Kyle was trying to act normal, but inside he was afraid. If Liz was losing the ability to feel Max, did it mean that her powers would completely wear off? Would he himself go into some sort of peak or upper limit and then nothing? Was this even healthy? Was this even "change" related to begin with? Because Maria didn't have trouble feeling Michael when he let her feel him, and the girl hadn't been changed, so...

"What about your dreams? Anything unusual there?" he said as he balanced three Snapples on his left arm while searching for a fourth bottle. There were too many flavors to choose from. There were too many complications coming his way too, he reflected gloomily to himself.

Liz shook her head. She stopped looking for another drink and turned to look at Kyle. For the first time, he saw fear in those beautiful chocolate eyes.

"Why was it low?" She asked him as if he knew and he just didn't want to tell her.

"Why do you think it was low?" Kyle answered. Liz needed her logic back, to think things through. On rare moments like this, when she was scared –especially when she was scared for Max- someone had to ask her what she needed to see. For some reason, the fact that she had to answer to someone else other than herself made her "see the light". She bit her lower lip.

"He's not sleeping well…" Liz said barely over a whisper.

"So, it's stress then," Kyle said, smiling to comfort Liz. But Liz still seemed unsure.

"He's been stressed before and it's never affected our connection…"

"He's never been as stressed as he is now," Kyle pointed out. Heck, Max had never lost control over his powers before now either, he silently thought. Liz still looked unconvinced. "Okay, how about you?" Kyle asked her, "couldn't it be that you are stressed? That you might be the reason you're feeling it low?" It took Liz by surprise; Kyle knew it by the way her eyes totally focused on him. The girl was definitely back and had let her connection go, if only for a few seconds.

"I… I don't know… I guess it could be…" Liz stammered a little, contemplating the idea. "Maybe it's just both of us," Liz sighed, a little bit frustrated.

"Okay… But now it's fine, right? Your connection?" Kyle asked her again, this time his voice sounding unsure. Liz nodded, her thoughts back on that place where she could feel her husband. "Good," Kyle said turning around and heading for the exit.

"Oh, Kyle!" Liz said as she noticed that Kyle was starting to leave, "we still have something else to discuss. You know, Maria's present," Liz said, smiling at him. For three weeks they had both worked so hard on getting Maria the right present–after all, Christmas had just passed- and then, bam! The Special Unit had crashed on them and their lovely present had been forgotten along with half their possessions.

"I was starting to imagine you were going to leave me out of the loop," Kyle said with a smile. It was easier to share one big present than to go hunting for a small one himself. He had always sucked at that… Meaningful stuff was just not his department… And Liz didn't mind sharing the credit, though Kyle suspected Liz had another present in her pocket. Well, at least Liz did know what Maria would like, so…

"Well, funny that you mention it… because it's actually about Michael's present," Liz said, rearranging the five bottles she had in her arms.

"Michael's present?" Kyle asked, puzzled. He was okay sharing the credit, all right, but he would have believed Michael wanted it all for himself.

"Yeah, it's sort of complicated… so Isabel told Max that we should lend him a hand or he's just going to get all stressed out because, you know… Maria will be talking to Dave and all…"

"Yeah, that's going to be fun…" Kyle said with mock enthusiasm. The prospect of having Michael beside him tomorrow morning was not a "fun" one exactly. "So, does it imply caging him?" Kyle asked, and to his surprise, Liz smiled broadly at that. "Not exactly," Liz said, "but it does imply us staying away from him," Liz said. They both locked into each others' eyes. Sure, they both loved the guy, but they had had Michael worried in a closed environment for seven months, and it was anything but fun. The guy needed his space to fume out, and that meant staying out of his way.

"I'm all ears, Evans," Kyle eagerly said.

"You're not tired yet?" Michael asked Maria as he was holding the punching bag. She shook her head and kept punching, hitting the exercise bag with firm and rhythmic precision. Silence fell as he stared at her, the world losing its essence as he started to see Maria in slow motion.

God, Maria looked absolutely beautiful with that ponytail, no make up, wearing gym clothes, and with that look that could turn fire into ice. If Michael knew Maria at all, he would bet she was pissed off at something, and every time she hit the punching bag she was really hitting whatever was bothering her. Not for the first time around Maria, Michael wished he could read minds. Maybe then he wouldn't get lost in her vibes as much as he did.

Maria's vibes were beautiful too, he reflected.

When he had been dismissed from Jake's lab yesterday morning, he had thought he would use all his free time to go snooping around and maybe getting into the Net Geeks Base or something. But when he had arrived at the Gym yesterday, he had let all those thoughts vanish. He had just stared at Maria hitting that hanging thing with such force that he had had to wonder what the hell he had done to her: He had dragged her into this, and now he couldn't undo it. And the fact that Maria hadn't been snapping back as usual hit him hard too. She was being quiet. And chances were that he was the cause of that silence as well.

So, for 24 hours he had been trying to approach Maria. And for 24 hours he hadn't been able to just blurt out that he was nervous that Maria was furious at him. The fact that she was meeting with Dave tomorrow didn't make things easier for his anxiety level either.

"What is it?" Maria asked him, barely glancing at him.

"What is what?" he asked back, confused. Not for the first time either he wondered if Maria could read his mind. She could spook him like that sometimes.

"What's on your mind? You have that lost look that says you are stuck on something," she replied, hitting the bag again. She was starting to breathe heavily.

"What if I say that I don't want you to go tomorrow?" Michael asked, as it was the first thing that came into his mind. He _was_ nervous about what Dave could say to Maria, and though he couldn't really do anything to stop it, he still had to ask. He still had to let her know that he was worried about her.

"What if I say I should hang you up and practice boxing on you?" Maria said, keeping her rhythm, pausing briefly to bat her eyes at him and gave him that smile that said "you're so not going to win on this one". He hated that smile. She resumed her punching. "I'm capable of handling this situation. I won't run from it."

"I'm not saying you can't handle it," Michael said in a rush, "I don't doubt you. I'm doubting the chances of every single window in this place being in one piece by 9 o'clock tomorrow morning, that's all."

Maria abruptly stopped and looked at him. It was so weird to admit out loud that he did fear not being able to control himself, admitting that he was anxious as hell that it took Michael by surprise as well.

For a whole minute, they just stared at each other. Sighing, letting her shoulders fall a little, Maria finally said, "Michael, I'm going to be perfectly fine. There's no question that man can ask me that I won't know how to handle. Trust me, I've been thinking about that whole crap for four days straight. I can do this, and you should trust that I can do this as well."

With that, she resumed her punching, avoiding saying anything about the window that he had shattered yesterday. Avoiding saying anything at all. Apparently, her silence didn't have much to do with tomorrow's interview, as Max had suggested. Why was she so damn quiet then?

"It's just that you keep punching this thing…" Michael trailed off, unsure of how to approach the next thing he was fearing: That Maria was angry at him. This whole thing was starting to have a sense of _déjà vu_ all over it, like the time he had to make that napkin holder to make peace again. Well, he would do a million napkin holders if that was what it'd take.

Still, his last sentence had gone –seemingly- unnoticed by Maria. He still needed to find a way for Maria to tell him what was bothering her… So, how should he approach her?

"You okay with this?" he said, deciding that a direct approach was the only approach he'd really mastered.

"Yeah, I told you, I'm not tired yet," she said, moving her head side to side to soften her neck muscles. Her eyes were still pinned on the bag, and not on him. He didn't like it when she didn't look at him. It made him feel like she wasn't listening to him, or wasn't thinking that what he was saying was important. It also made him feel like he _had_ done something wrong.

"No, not the stupid bag, I mean okay with this whole situation?" Michael said, exasperated, letting go of the punching bag as Maria was hitting it. The blow made the bag go further, making Maria momentarily lose her balance at the lack from resistance. She glared at him for a second. He put his hands back in place.

"You doubting it now?" she said, her ponytail bobbing all the time as her body moved.

"I was never happy with this decision, but I just thought…" Michael trailed off again.

"That Dave was telling the truth?" Maria finished for him. The fact was Michael didn't know exactly how he had been convinced into this. Maybe because he thought that being here meant not being out there, and Maria deserved every chance at peace they could get. He had ultimately agreed to the offer to give her the chance at a normal life. He had always known there was no option for himself.

So… was Maria getting a normal life?

"Because so far he's keeping his part of the deal," she continued, her eyes still pinned on the punching bag.

"Then why are you hitting this thing so hard?" Michael finally said. If all were right with Maria, well… she wouldn't be this… _angry._ Maria paused for two seconds to take air, and as she did, she looked at him. She took a deep breath, and then kept punching.

"You know Michael, while you three are down there," Maria started, in a very level tone, "it gives Liz, Kyle and myself a lot of time to wonder what is going on at the lab. Kyle had his interview and Liz had hers, so that took a day out of their worries. But I have had four days of nothing but being around here, and that has given me plenty of time to ponder things." She paused, unsure of how to proceed. Michael didn't know where this conversation was going, but as long as it stopped her silent musings, he would just swallow whatever she said, and be happy about it.

"You know, when Liz first told me about Max, I ran for the hills," she finally said, hitting the punching bag as she was saying it. He couldn't really picture it, but he knew Maria hadn't taken the truth well. He had read all about that in Liz's journal. He had once tried to get the story out of Liz for more details, but to no avail. Funny how he could tell her every little embarrassment Max had ever had, but Liz wouldn't tell him much about Maria. Not fair.

"Yeah, but you were okay after a while," Michael said, shrugging. He briefly wondered that, if Maria really kept doing this for a long time, in a couple of months when she hit him it would really hurt. Not that Maria's slaps didn't hurt now, but still…

In a couple of months he was going to be proven right.

"I learned to deal with it, yeah," Maria said, still not looking at him. He wished she would hurry with the story and be over with this. He didn't like when Maria wasn't being Maria. "But, that's not what I mean. All these things started to happen. I started to feel like I was in some sci-fi movie half of the time…" Michael started to say something, but Maria gave him a look that said to hush up. "No, I'm not blaming you for it, okay? Just listen," she cut him off. So Michael just shut his mouth, but that guilty feeling that his life had screwed hers started to rise. He didn't let it rise too often, -as Max seemed to do about Liz's life- but from time to time he couldn't just ignore it.

"The fact is," Maria said, resuming her punching, now with less energy, "that there are all these circumstances that you're always going to be a part of or that are going to be chasing you and… I feel like I'm just standing on the sidelines, without being able to help you or help me or help the group. And if anything, Michael, if anything I'm not a damsel in distress."

For the briefest of moments Michael had a vision of Maria wearing a pink dress, a pointy hat, and golden locks flying in the air as she was looking down from a tower's window of some white castle. No, Maria was anything but a damsel in distress.

"Maria, you're great. You're great for the group. I don't even know where we would be without you," Michael honestly said. Why was Maria selling herself short now? She was brilliant with plans.

"Thanks, but I'm not finished," Maria said, barely smiling. "What I've been thinking is that it hasn't been fair. We are somewhat still running for our lives, we are just running in circles down here… Alex died, you've been shot twice, Max got captured, Isabel had to give up Jesse… It's not fair. And I'm sick of it not being fair," Maria said as she hit the bag with a particularly hard blow.

"I'm sorry," Michael mumbled. She hadn't added the fact that she, Liz and Kyle didn't really have to be stuck in their 'alien abyss' as Maria called it. Why had Maria accepted to come with them? Why, after all that had happened and knowing everything that was waiting for them, had she accepted to come with him?

"No, I'm not blaming you," she repeated herself, her rhythm picking up speed again. "Michael, what I've been thinking more and more lately is that what I need is to level things up a little bit. I want to be prepared."

"Prepared? Prepared how?" Michael asked, confused. What was it about Maria's words that always left him imagining he had zoned out for an entire hour? Why couldn't she just talk straight or something?

"You remember what Tess told us when you were going to rescue Max? She said the three of us were liabilities. I remember it so well because that was the first time it really hit me that all I could do was worry sick for you four. That when it really mattered, only those with powers could go."

Michael was still confused. It wasn't as if he could transfer his powers to her or anything. And even if he could, he wouldn't do it. He wouldn't take her normal out of her.

"So let me see if I've got this straight," Michael said, trying to gather all the info he had just gotten, "you've been pissed off because you've been feeling powerless?"

Maria stopped again, thinking. "I miss my independence, Michael," she finally said, looking at him. For one terrifying moment Michael thought that Maria was going to break up with him once more. "I miss doing my own stuff, and knowing that no matter what, I can fend for myself." How long had they lasted this time? Eight months? "And God, I'll be damned if all I do is hide behind your back!"

"Maria, you have to be safe," Michael cut in. What was Maria saying here? Besides that she might break up with him again, that is. That she was going to be in front of him?

"Michael, what I'm saying is that I didn't come so I could sit behind. This is my life too, and this is my life _with_ you as well. That's what I've been thinking as I hit this thing," she said, looking at the punching bag.

"You're not behind me because you're weak," Michael said, unconsciously letting go of the punching bag so he could express himself better with his hands, "you stay behind because I can protect you. And there's nothing wrong with that," he said, his right hand cutting the air to emphasize the point.

"What if I want to protect you too…" Maria barely said. "What if I want to protect myself, all of us… It's not a bad idea Michael. I'm not saying I'm going to get in front of you. I'm saying that I want to be _beside_ you."

"Maria…" Michael said in her same low tone. He tried to say something nice… something important. Something about how much he loved her and how meaningless this whole thing would become without her. Something about that he wanted her behind because he couldn't bear the thought of someone hurting her.

"So, I'm going to get in shape," Maria cut him off, her voice firm again, her eyes refocusing on the punching bag. There was no room for arguments there. "I'm going to learn a thing or two about escaping, and who knows what else I can learn in here that will help us to level things up." She was very serious about that, he could hear it in her tone, feel it in her vibes.

"I'm sure you'll do great," Michael sincerely said, even if he still didn't like her idea. As she started to hit the sack, his hands went to their previous position. This time, Maria smiled broadly at him. Well, at least she wasn't angry with him.

"And I'm going to go to that interview tomorrow morning and get some answers from that man," she added hitting the punching bag twice. Michael froze in his place.

"Maria… promise me that you'll be careful around him," Michael seriously said. Despite the fact that tomorrow morning's events concerning Maria's gift were all thanks to this man, Michael still felt ice running through his veins at the thought of Maria up there. Just like ten minutes ago, someone like Jeremy would appear out of nowhere telling him that there was so much he didn't know about this man and his empire. Maybe they had entered a domain that had suddenly become too immense to escape. The thought paralyzed him.

"Come on Michael," she said, looking up at him and his worried face, "he won't try anything stupid. He has too much to lose otherwise."

"It doesn't change the fact that that man creeps me out and that I feel like I've trapped you into this place for God knows how long," Michael tried to not snap back. He tended to do that, he knew, when he was worried about Maria. She stopped again, slightly frowning.

"And you keep quiet all of a sudden…" Michael continued, "and I'm… I don't know, I'm scared," he finally admitted. "I just… I just want you safe, okay?"

As Maria forgot the punching bag and put her arms around him, Michael had the first idea of how tense and scared he was really going to be tomorrow. And he somehow got the distinct feeling that more than just windows were going to be shattered as well.

"She's better off dead," Isabel icily said, her eyes pinned on some distant point out of the window. In the hour and a half that Dave had been talking to her, he had seen her going from cordial and polite to angry and hopeful and now cold and distant. She sort of reminded him of Susset. For the briefest of moments he wondered what his assistant was doing at that moment. Probably something work related, if he knew her at all. As fast as the thought came, he let it go.

Isabel's words were hanging in the air like the echo of a very high pitched bell. How odd it seemed to him that someone who cared so much for her family, as well as for strangers, could say such words in such a way. Tess Harding was a subject that he just couldn't anticipate how the kids were going to take. It had been an uncomfortable topic with Kyle, and it had annoyed Michael as well. Dave hadn't said more than what had been needed with Liz, to whom the matter had been a sore point, to say the least. But now Isabel was slowly moving her wedding ring around her finger, her right hand over the desk as she was standing against it, her eyes still lost somewhere in the far away woods. Everything in her body language was stating that she meant what she had just said: _She's better off dead._

"Max wanted to help her…" she said, still not looking at him, "and then so did Liz… and I guess I would have felt guilty later if we had turned her in, but I'm glad she's someone we don't have to deal with anymore."

Oh, but they still had to deal with her ghost, that was for sure, Dave contemplated as he was sipping his hot chocolate, standing against the cupboard. Isabel had refused any beverage, and as he had gone to prepare himself some, she had gotten up to look out the window. Before he could say anything, Isabel turned to look at him.

"Do you ever feel guilty when you… turn people in?" she asked, a little bit unsure, a little bit uncomfortable. It was an interesting question, Dave thought.

"Well, first of all, I don't 'turn them in'; they leave or do something stupid. I just let circumstances run them over… So no, I don't feel guilty about that," he simply said. Jake had told him once that it could be annoying how he summed things up with such simplicity as if things were black and white. Dave shrugged the thought off.

"So, if we just decide to leave right this moment, you would just watch how circumstances run us over?" Isabel asked, her pose of someone who was used to being looked upon. Isabel could be a really intimidating person, and now that they were both standing, he was very aware that she was his own height. Obviously, this woman was not used to looking at anyone above her own line of sight.

"No, if you leave right this moment, I wouldn't follow you to see how circumstances run you over. But I know they would, eventually. And though I wouldn't like it, I wouldn't feel guilty about it."

No, "guilty" wouldn't be the word. More likely "responsible". He would feel responsible for not being able to stop them. But now that they were on the subject of guilt…

"Do you feel guilty about trusting Tess?" he asked, returning her to the original question. Isabel turned again to the window, as if she couldn't talk about Tess and face him at the same moment.

"When she first came she was great…" Isabel said. She let go of her ring, and placed her left hand against the desk. "She was such… such a good friend," she slowly said, as if she were measuring her words. "After that first summer, I asked her if it had all been a play just to get to Max, and she said that in part, yes, she had needed to get close to him. But that later… later she had really wanted to be my friend." Isabel closed her eyes at the memory, as if feeling suddenly stupid for believing in Tess.

"According to Michael, she played it really well," Dave said, trying to make Isabel see that there was more to believing in Tess than just blind trust.

"Yeah, well," Isabel said, turning once more to look at him, her voice firm with an angry undertone, "Michael was so hungry for answers then that even if Tess hadn't been playing it 'really well' he still would have followed her. We were all just sitting ducks waiting in the dark… We were so vulnerable at the time," she added as an afterthought.

You_ still_ are so vulnerable, Dave mused to himself. The fact that Isabel was at his office was proof enough.

"It must have been exciting, though," Dave inquired, "to find someone else like you."

"Tess wasn't like us," she answered in that cold tone that made Dave rethink his questions. "Tess was never like us… she wanted everything we didn't…"

_Like what the book says? _Dave thought. _Is that what Tess wanted?_ But from what he had already heard, Tess involved too many things, too many sides. Was she selfish, searching for personal glory, or was she trying to do what she had been sent to do? To restore Antar's old regime? Or was Tess after something else? Maybe even a mix of it all.

When he had read the book months ago, he had been intrigued as to why so much had been put into something so small. Into four beings. _Four._ Funny, because now he was investing just as much into six beings, and two more than what the Antarians had first envisioned hardly made any difference at all. Just _six_.The thing was, why had the Antarians risked so much? Because by the looks of it, hardly anything from that book had turned out as it said. Except, maybe, for Tess.

The problem was that, without Tess to tell her side of the story, he was left with six sides, and the past three interviews hadn't been, well, encouraging.

"You ever talked to her about that? That you didn't want… what she wanted?" Dave cautiously asked.

"Of course we did," Isabel said in an exasperated tone; for one second she turned to look at him and then turned to look outside again. "She just couldn't understand why we didn't want our past back. She never wanted to stay here. She never wanted to be part of… us. All she seemed to care about back then was that stupid book."

"So, you were a big disappointment to her," Dave concluded out loud. Isabel's body tensed at that, but only slowly did she turn to look at him.

"I guess you could say so since we didn't make her plans any easier. It took her longer to betray us." Isabel paused, as if she was measuring him or something. It made him feel slightly uncomfortable. "Get one thing straight: Tess is no innocent, disappointed girl. She killed Alex and covered it all up. She wasn't caught by circumstances, she created them." A cold fury could be heard in Isabel's voice and Dave could have sworn the temperature in that room had dropped four or five degrees.

Kyle had told him that Tess and he had probably bonded better because they both felt like outsiders of the group. Kyle didn't want to be part of that "club", and Tess couldn't become a member of it. Then Michael had elaborated a bit more about Tess' 40 year pact with their enemies. Liz had barely said above a whisper that Tess had been able to get close to Max when he had felt that everyone had abandoned him for one reason or another.

So, if anything, Tess had known how to play with circumstances. She had created some, and had been caught by others, true, but all in all, she had known how to use them to her advantage. She had been able to get what she wanted. That, of course, assuming that she wanted what she got.

"You got to know her well?" Dave asked, pursuing his own train of thought about what Tess wanted.

"Are you kidding me?" Isabel asked, letting go of the desk and standing on her own. She didn't need to elaborate for Dave to see what she meant. If she _had_ known Tess, the girl wouldn't have betrayed them, right? He lowered his eyes to the floor for an instant so he could rephrase his question.

"I mean," he said, his hot chocolate mug forgotten in his right hand, "you said she wanted everything you didn't. So, what did she want?"

"Isn't it obvious by now?" Isabel asked back, a little bit exasperated and more than just a little bit suspicious.

"I know the short version," Dave explained, placing his mug beside him on the cupboard. "She was told there was a deal, she followed it, and it backfired. It doesn't mean it was all she wanted."

"You put so simply everything that woman did and could have done to us," Isabel said, her eyes burning into him and then turning away, as if she couldn't stand to look at him anymore.

"You're right. This is a complicated matter. She was a complicated person," Dave said, making Isabel turn to look at him, a hurt look in her eyes.

"Why are you so interested in her? She's dead; end of the story," Isabel evasively said, effectively avoiding answering what she thought Tess wanted. So, Isabel _had_ thought about that. It was too easy to think of Tess as a single minded person with one purpose, who had killed Isabel's friend without remorse. Too easy, really, and Dave was sure that Isabel had spent a good deal of time thinking this through, which was _not_ easy.

"She played a very important role in your lives," Dave answered her. "She changed the dynamics of your group drastically. In many ways, she's the reason you learned about your past, and because she came back and blew up the Army Base, she's also the reason you are here too."

"So she's just another blank to fill in?" Isabel asked disapprovingly, turning once again to look at him.

Oh, Tess was a whole _chapter_ to be filled in…

"She didn't care," Isabel said not waiting for Dave's answer, holding his eyes. "In the end, after all the options she had, all the times she could turn to us and ask for our help… She just didn't care," Isabel repeated again.

"Did she have a reason? Any motive to stay at all?" Dave inquired, somehow knowing that he was going a little too far, but his curiosity was getting the best of him. "Because by the sound of it, she had it pretty rough."

Isabel's cold expression changed to one of disbelief.

"Don't try to make excuses for her; because if she had known better, she wouldn't have decoded that stupid book by mindwarping Alex 'til she killed him. She wouldn't have covered up his death later, and by God, if she had felt any remorse at all, she wouldn't have wanted us to die at Khivar's hands. God! If you even think what she did had some sort of reason behind it other than getting what she selfishly wanted, you are so mistaken."

Silence fell between them like the light snow that was falling outside, and for one second Dave was certain his windows had trembled. He was walking on thin ice here, and he had already walked on thin ice with Isabel at the beginning of this conversation. He couldn't –or shouldn't- keep on this subject, but he still wanted to know.

"_You know, I wish I hadn't hated her, but…" Liz had said a little over 24 hours ago, her voice quivering a little, "she represented Max's past in the beginning, and later she represented Max's responsibility to a world he couldn't even remember. Max was scared of being around her, because he was… he was afraid…" Liz had said, shrugging. _

"_Afraid?" Dave had asked, confused. _

"_If everything that Tess was saying was true, then where did that leave Max? I mean, _Max_, you know? This life, these memories…" Liz had trailed off._

"_You?" Dave had elaborated. If Max was to be with Tess, where did that leave Liz?_

"_I believed her…" Liz had said, with a far off look. "I mean, I believed that what she wanted, what she said, was true. That Max had a destiny that didn't include me. That was bigger than whatever he or I wanted. I did everything, _everything_, I could to stay away from him."_

"_Until he finally listened to you?" Dave had asked. He hadn't known for sure how Liz had convinced Max to stay away from her –neither Kyle nor Michael had said a thing about that- but according to school gossip, well… Liz had gone to extremes. He hadn't asked, but somehow he couldn't quite believe it._

"_Yeah…" she absently had said. "Have you ever tried so hard to get something done… and once you've accomplished it, you realize it is all wrong?" Liz had asked him, a frown on her forehead. It had sounded like an odd question at the moment, but he had guessed he had understood what she was aiming for. Of course, he would never know about time travelers and their requests._

But the thought had stuck nonetheless. Most of the time he was too sure of his plan to doubt it wouldn't work in the long term, and if he had any doubts at all, he would just replay every possible scenario in his mind and make sure everything and everyone was exactly where he wanted them to be. But for the first time he thought exactly what Liz had said: What if once he had accomplished his plan, he'd realize it was all wrong? The question lasted all but six seconds in his mind, and then he dismissed it.

It would take another eight years for Dave to think about that question again.

"There's always more to a story than just black and white," Dave said, trying to smooth things over with Isabel and at the same time reason his questions. "I'm not making excuses for what she did or didn't do. I'm just trying to see the big picture."

"What is it about us that intrigues you so much?" She asked him, exasperated and confused at the same time, making her frown. "You said you wanted to study us, but that's Jake's department. You are just going around with these questions that have nothing to do with our powers, and for what? What do you gain by knowing all of this?" She suddenly asked, making him forget about Tess and his questions and black and white. Isabel's brown eyes burned into his hazel ones.

"I said I wanted to know your side of the story when you came back to make the deal," Dave seriously said. He didn't like to be put up against a wall by anyone, much less by someone half his age. Jake did it all the time, but that was Jake. It didn't matter, because what Isabel was really trying to find was a weakness, a flaw of character in him. She knew she could be intimidating, but here was where Dave would draw the line. "You accepted and so I want to know."

"It's all so simple for you, isn't it?" Isabel said, not backing up an inch. If she really wanted to, she could become a really great lawyer, Dave briefly thought. "You get what you want no matter what," Isabel ended, exasperated again.

He was about to argue the point, but for some reason, he found the statement funny, in an odd way. Maybe it was the way she had said it, or maybe because it implied that he never failed –which he definitely did- or maybe because for a second she had sounded like Jake. He didn't know. He didn't laugh either, but it was enough to make him stop. He almost imperceptibly sighed. "There is a good reason for asking all these questions," he finally conceded.

Isabel turned to look at him, almost perfectly disguising a look of anticipation. Almost, but not quite.

"I have a puzzle, Isabel…" he started, taking his hot chocolate mug with his right hand, and with a movement of his head signaling the puzzle on his desk. Isabel turned to look at it, confused. "I have all these pieces put in place. But there are all those holes to still be filled in." He made a pause to sip his chocolate. God, he loved chocolate. "You are that puzzle," he continued, forgetting the chocolate and focusing on the conversation at hand. This was too important. "I've put the pieces together as best as I can, but I still have holes. And I don't know what those would look like in the end."

He looked straight at Isabel, who was unsure if she should ask him to continue or just let him speak for himself. He didn't smile this time. He wanted Isabel to know he was very serious about this.

"In the past week I've learned about government and alien conspiracies, interplanetary meetings, deadly viruses, spaceships in the middle of nowhere, death, risk, treachery, love, you name it, it's your life. You know better than I do that you all are in the middle of a seriously big mess, and that worries me."

"It worries you?" Isabel repeated, barely above a whisper. "Why?" she asked again.

"You know who I called not half an hour after Kyle left? A geology team to see if there were any more alien viruses to worry about. Your brother went to a Summit to represent a world he can't even remember, meaning that four other planets are very aware and very capable of turning their sights to our planet. One of your own turned on you because of a deal made way before even I was born. There's a lot to cover with you. There are all these tracks you've been leaving everywhere."

"You're just…" Isabel tried to say, not really finding any words to her thoughts.

"I was just trying to fill in the blanks and suddenly I found myself with all these things that have to be looked upon. You've got enemies here, there, out there that want to see you dead for one reason or the other, so this should interest you as well. Because the more I know, the better I can protect you." Isabel didn't look up. She was unsure, Dave knew. Frustrated, he sighed, and for one instant he really, _really_ considered just going on with this speech and tell her everything else there was to why he wanted to know all of this. In his mind he did. In his mind, he also knew she wouldn't approve. None of them would. Still, he had to somehow convince her. Drive her doubts away.

"Has it crossed your mind, even just for once, that I might be a good guy and that I'm telling you the truth?" This time she did turn to level her eyes with his, and by the look on her face he knew the answer was _no_.

_TBC…_


	24. Looking Back

**XXIV**

**Looking Back **

"So," Liz said as she and Maria were heading for the showers, "What did Michael say?"

"Like he could say anything," Maria answered, arching one eyebrow in a defiant gesture. Both friends locked eyes for a second and then they… giggled. It felt goodFor some strange reason Liz thought that it felt good to giggle under all this pressure and under this particular roof. Liz and Maria had talked for almost three hours the night before, and that, too, had felt good.

"Did he like it?" Liz asked as they both resumed their walking.

"I didn't give him a choice," Maria said, a mischievous smile on her lips.

"Come on, Maria!" Liz said, playfully punching her, "What did he say?"

"He's worried," Maria finally said, her smile waning a little. "He finally admitted that he's scared."

"Took you a lot of time?"

"Some ignoring too, but he finally said out loud that he's afraid of this place."

"He was probably fretting about what was going on with you before," Liz said as they entered the shower room.

"Yeah, I know. But if he didn't say it out loud soon he was going to explode... I swear, Michael's handle on pressure for long periods of time… pretending he doesn't care… This place is too small for that kind of blast. So, point one for me. And besides, I got to inform him about our little plan of not staying behind when things get creepy. Anyway, we seriously need a shower," Maria said as she was reaching for a towel. "Then you can give me all the details about what Max said."

Because Maria had turned, she didn't see Liz flinching as she was reaching for her own towel. Yeah… Max… Sure, she had planned on telling him about how she and Maria had decided that, since they were going to be stuck with nothing to do while Max, Michael and Isabel were at the lab, they could ask Ray for some non-powers related escapes. And they knew Ray was aching for something else to do besides playing gym teacher.

And Liz also knew that Max was going to agree. Well, she was 85 percent sure he was going to agree without freaking out. Without thinking that she would be in more danger if she knew personal defense or something… Because, come on! It was for everybody's benefit. And Max would see that… Right.

She smiled to herself. Of course Max was going to see that, -sooner or later- and of course she was going to learn whatever Ray could teach. They hadn't filled in Kyle yet, but she saw no reason for her ex-boyfriend to not agree to their plan. No, Liz was not doubting if Max was going to like the idea or not, she had just not told him because she was still waiting to see how things were going with their connection. So far, so good. In fact, she was beginning to think that she might have over-reacted to whatever it had been in the morning. Liz was still going to ask Max if he had felt anything –and then she was going to tell him about their plan- but that would wait 'til later that day.

It was now close to midday and, as usual, things had gone pretty smoothly at the Gym. Ray had seemed concerned about something though, and had been talking to someone over the phone for a while. Besides, with Michael and Max here, he had barely been more than a shadow the entire day.

It had been weird to have Max and Michael around. Even Ray, who had loosened up a little with Maria, Kyle and her over the past three days, had been more serious and careful. There was a certain… how had Maria described it earlier? There was a certain _wall_ that Ray put up around the alien trio. She would never say that Ray was afraid of them, but there was this… respect. Funny, because that was exactly what she had felt when Jake had called her "Miss Elizabeth" the day before, and she knew that he had never called Isabel "Miss".

Getting into the shower, Liz thought that hot water at high pressure had never felt better before. She was sorer than she was letting Max know; she was sweaty, tired, hungry, sleepy and worried, but somehow her hot shower made it all seemed like a vague dream. She could stay under that shower forever.

It was like Maria had said the night before: This place wasn't so bad if you forgot a couple of dozen things. Like windows, sunshine and freedom. Liz let go an ironic laugh. They had had all the freedom in the world up there, except for the little detail that they were being chased –hunted, really- and now, here… well, here she was enjoying a much deserved hot shower, even without windows, sunshine and freedom. Guess I can't win them all… she murmured reaching for the soap.

Yet the thing that was still a constant through both "life styles" was this fear of the unknown. She felt blinded now, unable to see the future anymore, unable to guide the whole group out of danger. She felt responsible for it, though she knew the feeling was misplaced. It was just that, after being able to see things that would happen and after having the power to alter those outcomes, she now felt… blind. She couldn't get that word out of her mind. She couldn't see anything but darkness ahead of her. An unknown future.

So, now that the possibility of getting her power back was looming on the horizon, Liz felt a little bit thrilled. She knew that Max was worried about Jake or Dave discovering her, but… if she got it back, she would probably know, at the very least, if staying here was a good choice or not.

None of that mattered now, though. She was here and she couldn't see the future. Period. She closed her eyes and let the water wash away all the nonsense that was having a field day in her mind.

Still, even if she couldn't really see the future, she tried to think ahead. She tried to think about next week and if they were going to still be expected to go to the gym and the lab. What were they going to do in the afternoons, anyway? She wondered if she should go and talk to Jake about some biology or genetics classes. She thought about Dave's words to Kyle about going to engineering, and about Michael's plan about going to the Network Keepers' Base.

How were their lives going to be from now on? And _when_ were they going to start having those lives as well? They were just stuck in this week until Dave left. Their thoughts were still going around that man, which was odd, because even if Dave would leave them, and the interviews would be over, they were still on this man's grounds. _He _was leaving, not them.

Besides, when was Dave going to return, anyway? The man was not just going to finish this and then forget about them. She felt frustration creeping all over her spine. She groaned. She truly wanted to get lost in this shower, and for ten minutes forget the world existed.

But if she didn't want to think about the future or the present, the only thing left was her past. A past that Dave had skillfully recounted, she couldn't deny that. It had been strange. He would one minute be questioning her decisions and the next one sort of praising her actions.

"_You didn't run," Dave had said, his hazel eyes pinned on her, "and you had more than a few reasons to stay very far away."_

Maria had puzzled about that the night before. Was Dave going to ask her why she had stuck with Michael? Because then, as Maria had said, that would be a _very_ long talk. They had both laughed. In fact, the memory made Liz laugh at that moment as well. It had been a very long and stressful day yesterday, and Maria still had her own interview pending, so they both had wanted to get rid of all that extra energy. Maria wanted Liz to tell her all about her interview, and Liz wanted Maria to tell her all about what was going on with her and her sudden change of mood.

"_Michael is on this quest to find anything about this man, but he's not letting himself see that he's a scared rabbit like the rest of us," Maria had said matter of factly. "He's distant," she had continued, with a worried expression on her face. "He thinks the walls are going to collapse on us or that he's dragged me into some hole and that it's all his fault." Maria had sighed then, as they were both letting themselves fall seated on Liz's couch. "And I can't say a thing, because the only way to deal with this is for Michael to figure it out for himself."_

So, Liz hadn't been sure of how exactly Maria's plan of being quiet and somehow ignoring Michael would work to get Michael's attention, but by the sound of it, it had worked. And she was happy about it, for them both. Because Liz knew that Michael being frustrated and scared was not a good Michael for anyone, including himself.

Now she had to work on Max's worries and on convincing him to get some sleep. Kyle was right, Max had never been as stressed out as these past days, which would be a really good explanation as to why their connection had been low earlier that day. But first of all, _she_ had to work on her own worries, because she was as stressed out as her husband.

The word echoed in her mind. _Husband._ For almost a year she had been sure that was never going to happen. Not after his future self had come and trashed all her dreams in an attempt to save the world's destiny. She had tried to find herself another life. Hadn't she kissed Sean after all? Hadn't she laughed with him for a while? She _had_ gotten to see what else was out there, as far away from Max and his world as anyone could find. Sean was the total opposite from the love of her life. He was a normal guy to begin with… and to end with too. And though deep down Sean had been a very nice guy who got to let her see a part of herself she didn't even know existed, Sean wasn't Max. Plain and simple.

No one could say she hadn't tried to get away from the alien abyss. Even going to Vermont had been to see if maybe some order, some discipline and a well defined world was what she was missing. And she had sort of bought it all up to the night that Max had died. Nope, what she was missing was the prospect of a future with Max. But at that point in life Max himself was lacking a clear view of his own future, so…

Max dying and then coming back had made both of them realize that they could very well spend their respective lives apart, but both had seen their dreams become ashes in an instant. They both had had a clear vision of what they were missing by not being with each other. For Max, life had been too short, and he had missed everything he could have had with Liz. For Liz, it had been the prospect of a very long and lonely life. She might have been drunk for most of it, but she clearly remembered being devastated.

Though she had been cautious in the beginning of their relationship after Vermont –after all, how many times could her heart be broken time and again?- she had begun to really see her future. College was on the horizon, and she wasn't thinking of attending Las Cruces. Were Max, Michael, and Isabel trapped in Roswell forever? She didn't think so, but not even they were sure of what to do. That was why when Max had said that he wanted to go to Northwestern she had been… unsure.

How would things have turned out had they continued with their normal lives? Where would they be now? All of them? What if Max had not gone with her? All of this was nonsense, she knew, but she sometimes did wonder, and deep down she knew that as long as Max and she were alive, they were inevitably going to end up together. Maybe they would marry at the Elvis Chapel, maybe on a side road little town with the cutest of Churches. Or maybe even on another planet. But for her, all roads led to Max, and to calling him _husband_.

Thinking about Max as her husband always brought a smile to her lips, and the hot water running over her aching muscles was just the perfect combination to calm her down. After all, if she had married Max after all the chaos, lies, doubts, mistakes and pain that had plagued the last three years of High School –of which Dave had asked _a lot_- there was no force in this or any other world that could make her believe she couldn't do impossible things. Heck, she had even ended up with powers, for crying out loud!

Except that, to be honest, Dave was a force she hadn't encountered before.

Pierce had taken away their innocence. Tess had taken away their sense of trust and –by killing Alex- she had finally blasted away that thin bubble where they had thought that no matter what, everyone was going to be alive by the end of it all. Fighting her parents –as Max had been fighting his- had stripped her of her last childhood feelings. And now, here was Dave… who was threatening to take away her future.

Her instincts told her that he wasn't an enemy, but she wasn't getting the feeling that he was a friend either. Maybe they were reading too much into this and Dave was just some eccentric genius who really just wanted to study their powers…

Yeah, right…

But there was a certain… reassurance in Dave. The way he talked and the way he would give snippets of his own life. Even the way he was so casual while he was stirring his hot chocolate. What puzzled her the most was the way he carefully treaded over some subjects. He knew what he wanted to ask, but he also knew some things weren't exactly for public knowledge. Especially if the subject was Tess.

She had been expecting it. As closed a chapter as it was, it still brought some dark emotions to her, and she knew that she had to remain calm because, well… you never knew when those green sparks would come again. But Dave had been very cautious about the whole thing.

"_So, it all fell apart but… you still stuck around?" Dave had asked with a sidelong glance as they were both watching outside._

"_Guess I did," she had answered nonchalantly, wishing she still wasn't so angry at everything that had happened then. _

"_Not many young women your age would have…" Dave had hesitated then, as if he had been unsure what word to use, "stayed by Max's side after all those events."_

Events._ How nicely put. "I knew…" Liz had whispered back, "I knew that if I wanted Max's future, a future with him, I had to leave his past behind. It wasn't easy. Hell I— I almost threw Tess when I saw her again," she had amended at the last minute._

It had been like Maria had said: Forgive Max, or get him out of her life. Liz sighed. Getting Max out of her life was not only difficult, but practically impossible. Impossible if she was planning to move on and have a happy life. Granted, running for her life didn't exactly qualify as a real life fairytale, but for those perfect moments with Max… For all those times she had awakened and had found him staring at her… For each and every embrace, every word of comfort, every dream she had seen in his soul… For all the acceptance he had shown for her own mistakes and flaws… It hadn't been easy, and it certainly hadn't been over night, but Liz had left Max's past where it belonged: The _past_.

And she had told that to the man that held hers and Max's future. Somehow she had known that Dave was not going to push for details on that. He hadn't wanted her angry. He had wanted her answers, and that had meant taking it nice and easy. Or that had been what Maria had concluded, anyway. So it was that care, that attention to details, like the hot chocolate, or telling her to bring a sweater, or that he had blushed when she had busted him with his puzzle, that made her feel that he wasn't after them with all these evil intentions. It all could very well be an act, she knew, but… Maybe she just wanted to believe he was a good guy.

Because if he was the bad guy they feared him to be, then he had already taken away their future.

_- - -_

It was the silence that was making Ray nervous.

The laws of nature being what they were, the girls were bound to take forever in the showers, while the boys would only take about 1/4 of the same time. So now Ray was alone with Michael, Max and Kyle, all four expectantly looking in the girls' showers' direction. Though they could very well be discussing future plans, or Jake's idea, or just filling him in on what they were expecting, they had all leaned back against the first wall that had crossed their path and had silently waited. And waited… and waited. Hence the silence.

"Did we have a chance?" Michael asked out of the blue, making the other three men turn to look at him a little too fast. "Dave said when we arrived that you tracked us down and that you were the one who caught us too, so I want to know. What did we do wrong?"

Ray suddenly preferred the silence.

This was turning out to be one day full of weird events. First, Jake's call at the ungodly hour of 4:36 a.m. about Dave having an asthma attack –did those guys actually sleep?- and then the subsequent argument between those two. Ray knew that Dave hated to even acknowledge he was asthmatic, but he had never seen Jake so furious with Dave for not having his inhaler nearby.

Then a tense calm had settled between the whizzes as Dave was recovering at the infirmary, until Dave had told Ray to set his meeting with Isabel at 8:30. Jake had told Ray to leave them alone then, and Ray had more than gladly complied. There was something eating Jake up, Ray knew, but what was it? Why was Jake so eager to corner Dave about the kids? Why hadn't he done so when Dave had first presented the project seven months ago?

_Then_ Michael had written back about changing the hour to 8:30 for their Gym appointment, which Ray had thought a little daring, but okay. He saw more advantage to giving them that, than by making them show up at 7:00. Building trust and that kind of thing.

And last but not least, Jake had called him later in the morning to ask him what his plans with the kids were and then he had ranted for about an hour about what was with Dave and this stupid idea that he could survive without his inhaler.

Weird. Jake just didn't _rant_.… What was next? Samantha inviting him to dinner?

Now three pairs of eyes looked intently at him, curious, anxious, and even a little fearful. Waiting for him to tell them how they had been trapped. It wasn't nice to look at your captor while standing beside him, he guessed, but Ray knew that he had to get along with these kids. He also knew that he had to get a grip on himself and stop worrying that any of them was going to blast him into oblivion. Besides, if they were going to learn his craft, they had to know what they had done wrong. Michael certainly had a good reason to ask this. He certainly had impressed Ray.

"No, you never had a chance," Ray finally said, making Michael tense a little, while Max's shoulders slightly sagged and Kyle's eyes returned to the showers. "You did several things right and few wrong, but that was all that it took, really."

"How did you find us?" Kyle asked, turning worried eyes to him. "We were picking routes randomly, flipping coins… How could you find us?" Kyle asked again. Flipping coins? No wonder their paths had been so illogical. Points that obviously had more advantages had been dismissed for creepy little towns.

"I don't know how exactly Dave tracked you. He hacked into systems, he knew what the Special Unit knew. Satellite confirmation of your whereabouts was a sure thing when we could pin you down. It wasn't easy. You did right by traveling in different numbers and at different times."

"But we still didn't have a chance," Michael sullenly remarked. Ray thought for a moment how exactly was best to answer Michael.

"Listen, kids, you stayed out there, without protection, for seven months. That's no small thing. You survived, you stayed together, and you did everything you could. It wasn't easy to get you. It took months of planning."

"So," Max said, crossing his arms in front of his chest, narrowing his eyes a little, "no matter what… you would have… trapped us?"

"Or the Special Unit," Ray said. All three visibly tensed at that. "The Special Unit's problem was that they were chasing you as if you were humans. They weren't factoring in that you could blow objects 200 feet away. That you could vanish walls, produce shields. They thought they could point a gun at you and render you defenseless that way. They knew you weren't humans, of course, but they were going about tracking you and trying to ambush you by the book."

"What did you do differently then?" Michael asked, concerned. How many ambushes had they escaped? Ray wondered for the first time. A few times, there had been very close calls. Sometimes Ray thought that they had some sixth sense to sense danger around the corner.

"We didn't use the SWAT team and surround you with 35 men, that's for sure. From the beginning we knew that a frontal attack was a no go."

"'We'?" Kyle asked. Ray turned to look at him.

"'We' as in Dave, Jake, and myself."

"How was it done, then?" Michael pressed.

"With three men, a sedative gas, a clever story and… a lot of luck actually," Ray summed it up. His mind wandered to the past, when they were trying to come up with a plan to trap them. How to lure them into the ambush. Who to take first?

"_The aliens," Ray had pointed out at the board where all six were pinned on their own column. Information about each one of them was neatly written below each picture. "They are the fire power; the humans would be left defenseless."_

_Dave had thought about it for a second, and then he had tried to see a different approach. "If you take the humans first, you put the aliens in an impossible situation about fleeing and leaving their friends behind, or staying and fighting."_

"_If they are fighting like that, it might become a very difficult scenario," Jake had pointed out. Ray had nodded, knowing that the good doc had a point._

"_No, you are right Jake," Dave had said, thoughtful, "I don't want to bring them here by force. At least not open force."_

"_It has to be a small team," Ray had started to form a plan, "less than five men. They have to be able to approach them without being suspicious."_

"_Why not six?" Jake had asked, curious, "one for each of them."_

"_I think that would be too many," Ray had contradicted out loud, "though it might work." The three of them had turned to look at the board. "I still believe that picking them two by two would be easier," Ray had ended._

"_No, that cannot be," Dave had emphasized, his eyes still glued to the board. "If we want to show them how vulnerable they are they have to be taken at the same time, all of them." _

"_And you don't want them to be aware of what is happening until it's too late…" Ray had finished for Dave._

"_I don't want them aware. Period." Dave had corrected Ray. _

"_That's a very intriguing puzzle," Jake had interceded, "You want to take them under their own noses. Their special abilities are your biggest problem, you know?" Dave had absently nodded._

"_We could use darts… snipers… all six of them getting out of a breakfast place…" Ray had offered._

"_It might be, but it's still too violent, and probably too public," Dave had said, frowning. "There has to be a way of getting those kids without them realizing it's happening… while they are unaware…"_

"_Sleeping?" Jake had guessed. Ray and Dave had turned to look at him. "The only time of the day you are truly unaware is when you are sleeping," Jake had logically concluded, explaining his train of thought. _

"_If we could get them while they are sleeping, then they would be taken unaware and all together," Ray had seen, "but we still have problems with that scenario."_

"_Yeah, many," Jake had agreed._

"You see," Ray was now explaining to them, "too many circumstances had to be in place for the plan to work at its best. We had Dave's damned conditions of you being all taken at the same time and unaware."

"But that's stupid. It would have been easier to take us two at a time," Michael said.

"I know. Though it was more difficult to take you all at the same time, it wasn't impossible."

"It was all calculated," Max said, in that quiet tone of his, "he wanted to trap us in the hardest conditions, didn't he?"

"Yeah," Ray agreed, locking eyes with Max. _Calculated _was definitely a word that described Dave's actions to perfection. "He wanted to prove his point to you," Ray explained. He didn't need to add _and he did._

"How hard was it?" Michael asked, crossing his arms as Max had done a minute before.

"Hard. First, to make a sedative gas work it has to be released in an enclosed environment," Ray started, "A motel room is hardly an enclosed environment with its windows and ventilation systems, and doors, and cracks. It was hardly a sealed place," Ray pointed out. "We assumed you had a look out, it only made sense, so to by-pass he or she, whoever was administrating the gas had to be able to get close to you without you being suspicious."

"You chose small numbers," Michael said, "that's why you only sent three men."

Ray nodded. "Though there were other things to take into consideration. Jake jumped in with his own problems. How much is too much sedative gas? He was concerned about your health. Different heights, weights, species… his concerns were shared by Dave."

They had kept making plans, but in the end, it was the sedative idea that always seemed to be the best. At least on covering Dave's points: Unaware and together. Jake concluded that all they really needed was to lightly sedate them, enough for them to not awake when being moved, but not enough to keep them out cold for an hour.

At some point the gas-leak story had come up. How to get six persons out without anyone being suspicious? How to administrate the real sedative that would last hours? Jake had still been concerned. He said that sedating a person should never be taken lightly.

"But in the end, we worked it out," Ray ended. "It was hard, but…" he trailed off.

"But here we are," Kyle said, trying to joke. Michael just scowled, while Max got a thoughtful look.

"What should we have done differently?" Michael finally asked.

"Dave was an enemy you couldn't foresee," Ray said, "even if you had had a lookout that night, we would have gotten you. If not with the gas, we would have used plan B, and you would have been taken that morning one way or another, following Dave's conditions or not."

"He told Liz that it took you six weeks to be able to do so," Max said, still concentrated on his own thoughts. As if snapping out of it, he leveled his eyes to Ray's. "Why couldn't you wait any longer?"

_Because Dave said so, _Ray silently thought. "The Special Unit was going to try to take you that day. We couldn't keep taking the risk that they would actually succeed. It was really close the last time you ran into them, you know?"

Michael almost unconsciously rubbed his right hand over his left shoulder. "We know," he simply said, annoyed at something that Ray couldn't figure out.

"And what if they _had_ succeeded?" Max asked, "if we had been trapped by them? What would Dave have done?"

"I don't know," Ray lied. It was odd enough that Dave had told Liz how much time it had taken them to trap them, but Ray wasn't entirely sure if it was a good thing that Max and company knew exactly how far Dave was willing to go to get them here. If Dave wanted them to know, then fine, but Ray was not going to comment on plan C. That plan that played the worst case scenario, where the kids were actually trapped by the Special Unit, and where he had to see how to get them out.

For one moment Ray truly contemplated the idea. If Dave had rescued them, would the kids still be so suspicious of him? Had the events not played out according to Dave's first plan, would they be here? He shook the thought off. It didn't matter. What mattered was earning their trust and staying in one piece every day, for as long as it would take.

As the girls finally emerged from the showers, and Max and Kyle went to meet them, Michael held back just a second longer.

"Maria told me she has this idea about you training her," Michael quietly said, with a fury inside those brown eyes that made Ray stop in his tracks, "but if you so much as break one of her fingernails…" Michael trailed off as now Maria was closing in, yet the warning had been well implied.

Those were going to be the longest eight years of Ray's life.

- - -

"They just looked at us, expectant…" Isabel was saying, now standing at the far end of the window, at the opposite extreme from the shattered glass. She was unconsciously playing with her necklace, moving it slowly side to side. "And we didn't know what to say… where to begin…"

"Must have been a relief, though…" Dave said while Isabel was still lost in memories about telling their parents the truth, "you must have thought about it a million times."

Isabel let go a small sarcastic laugh. "You were keeping count on that too?" she said, her eyes fixed on the trees outside. The sky was deep gray. Soon a storm was bound to hit.

"I'm not _that_ good," he answered, though she remained still, as if she hadn't heard him. "You told them everything?" Dave continued, as if nothing had been said out of place. He crossed his arms and comfortably lay against the cupboard, his black numbers hanging on the opposite wall.

"We told them everything they needed to know…" Isabel said, her voice getting lower with each word. So, the answer was "no". They hadn't told them _everything_. She kept playing with her necklace, slower than before though. "There were things they really didn't need to hear about then… And Max and I thought that with time we would… eventually fill in the gaps. After all, they are our parents."

Something in Isabel's voice, an undertone of loss and homesickness, made Dave miss his parents too.

"_Look Mom! I can count to a million!" _And that he had done… the entire week… He let go of the thought with a slight smile. His Mom had certainly been patient.

"And they didn't run," Isabel was saying now. "For all the times I knew they wouldn't… it was really, _really_ good to know I had been right all that time."

"It must have been unsettling to know how much you had done under their own roof," Dave said, "without them having the slightest clue."

Isabel turned to look at him, as if she were about to say something not exactly nice, but she thought better of it at the last second. Instead, she turned to look at the puzzle, her back to the window now.

"Mom wouldn't stop asking questions and Dad wouldn't stop staring at us. On some level they felt betrayed," she conceded, "but there was no avoiding that… We couldn't take the risk before…" Isabel trailed off.

"They never noticed anything out of the ordinary?" Dave asked, raising one of his eyebrows. He wished now he could interview Diane and Phillip Evans.

"Max and I were sent to the shrink, what do you think?" Isabel sharply asked, her eyes still on the puzzle pieces, her hand reaching for the nearest ones and carefully flipping them up.

_It could have been worse…_ Dave absently thought. Now, this was interesting. What exactly had the Evans' noticed to send _both_ their children into therapy? Not something alien related –at least not from their perspective- but something more… human. Yet before he could say anything about that, Isabel stopped flipping pieces, her eyes at some point on the table.

"Max was having nightmares, waking the entire house at times," she barely said above a whisper, "how could you keep something like that from them?" She briefly closed her eyes, as if trying to shake the thought off. Her voice sent chills down Dave's spine.

For a second, he felt like a little kid again. Distant echoes of screams in his mind. Old memories. He knew that the only way Max could have woken up the entire house was if he had screamed out of fear. Dave couldn't stand the image. Something in someone's scream touched something deep inside of him, something that made him want to put his hands on his ears and shrink. It was a childish feeling, a childish reflex, but up until this day Dave had avoided hospitals or situations where people would be screaming like the plague. If he couldn't avoid it, he would swallow it, of course, but that didn't mean he wouldn't feel cold inside.

And Isabel had heard Max scream. The way her voice had almost whispered it and her eyes had gotten that lost look. It had been a pain that she herself had felt when she had heard her brother at night. Screams had that quality: They made you _feel_. Feel the other's pain as your own.

He found himself without words. What was he supposed to say? "I'm sorry"? His silence didn't seem to bother Isabel though, since she just kept talking. "They had noticed things over the years… small things… things that didn't quite add up but that they had both let go. For some reason or another, they just had let them go."

"So when you told them the truth, it all made sense," Dave said rather than asked.

Isabel suppressed an ironic laugh. "They had more questions than you," she said, as if it should be obvious that things didn't make sense for her parents. At least not that fast. "But at least they know now…" she said with a small smile, a sad smile. It didn't linger though, as she faced up one last puzzle piece and turned to look at him, her expression in control again, serious.

"How much do you know about them?" she asked, standing now, the puzzle forgotten.

Dave slightly shrugged and took his hot chocolate mug from his cupboard. What he _didn't _know about them, was more likely the question. "That Child Services always thought they had made the perfect choice by placing you with them," Dave said after sipping the now cold chocolate. Someone had once told him "_Never _say anything wrong about anyone's parents, even if they themselves do"and boy, had he been right. So, start with the sweet and stay with the sweet. For the first time since this conversation had started, Dave got Isabel's first real –if short- smile.

It really didn't last. Her seriousness returned, expecting him to continue. "I know your dad loves to win in court, but he also takes losing his cases with dignity. He always plays by the rules. He's a good boss, likes things neat, clear and certainly on time. He can be a little inflexible on some matters though, and once his mind is set on something, there's no turning him back."

"His secretary?" Isabel asked, her eyes slightly narrowing. Dave nodded. All this information had been obtained first hand by Philip Evans' secretary, who had been working for Dave for almost two years now. "What about Mom? Who did you have tracking her?"

"Your mom loves to experiment with food, and she certainly loves to take pictures as well. Likes old movies, and has a soft spot for the Italian restaurant where she and your dad had their first date. She also loves to talk about her kids," Isabel slightly glared at him. "Community Service meetings, every two weeks. She really likes to talk about her family life when she's talking with other mothers, you know. It was easier to set up random meetings and random talks than to get one specific person to get close to her."

"Was the information good?" Isabel asked, with no small hint of sarcasm.

_Not as good as yours, _Dave almost said, but he bit his tongue. That was _not_ what he should say. "I needed to know," he simply answered. "I needed to know what kind of… kids everyone thought you were. So yeah, the information was good. For invading aliens, you had way too many earthly things to worry about: School, curfews at home, social responsibilities, jobs." _Even boyfriends and girlfriends,_ Dave had almost slipped as well. He kept the thought to himself. Alex was certainly a very sore point here.

"So you thought we were here to invade?" Isabel asked, as if she couldn't believe him.

"I didn't know what to think, that's why I watched. I kept wondering and wondering. Asking questions. Because without questions, there are no answers."

"And the more you watched…" Isabel purposefully trailed off, so he could fill in the blanks.

"The more you didn't make sense," he said, making Isabel frown a little. "If you were invaders, then you could very well have been scouts. But it didn't add up to your brother's behavior. Why risk your cover by healing those kids in Phoenix? As far as we could see, those kids had no significance or importance to anything related to you. Except for Brody's daughter. Maybe it had been blackmail: Brody threatened you in exchange for healing his daughter, and the other kids were healed just to not single Sydney out."

"You believed that?" Isabel asked, a little bit offended.

"For a short while. But it was done too carelessly, the silver handprints left behind, the security videos not taken care of. What Max did he did on the spur of the moment. And probably without your knowledge, let alone your approval."

"So we were too good to be invaders?" she said, leaning against the table again, the puzzle at her back, crossing her arms.

"_Max_ was too good to be an invader," Dave corrected her, "I didn't know about the rest of you. I had just found out about who you were. Maybe you were colonizing. Maybe you were scientists. Maybe you were refugees. There are only so many options to choose from, and they all have to do with social, economic or political reasons."

"How long did it take you to reach a conclusion, then?" Isabel asked, sounding genuinely interested.

_Way too long,_ Dave silently thought, _and I was almost too late_. Instead, he shrugged. "I got the pieces one by one. To make a time frame, I first got your adoption records. From that point I kept updating it with your friend's and family's bits. Later, it was the outside sources that helped shape what I got. School. The Special Unit Agent. The MetaChem research. Police records. So all together, I would say that it has taken me every single day from the moment I found that video at Phoenix 'til this very instant. And it's still a work in progress."

Isabel slightly glared at him. "You haven't reached a conclusion yet?" she asked, rather coldly.

_I have reached _many_ conclusions_, Dave thought as he sipped the last of his chocolate. "There are a lot of details to take into consideration," he said at length, "but you certainly don't let me get bored."

Isabel raised one of her eyebrows, slightly moving her head to her left, as a way of impatiently saying "is that a 'yes' or a 'no'?"

"Almost," he finally said, as the tall girl slightly snorted and turned away. Dave left his mug over the cupboard and went to the closest side of the table, being opposite to Isabel who now was staring again at the outside, her arms still crossed. "There are still many things that don't make sense," he casually said, looking at the pieces he had already placed together, recalling the mental image he had of the complete puzzle. "With every detail that I get, the fewer blanks there are to fill in," he continued, pausing for a second on the space he had in front. In his mind, he rotated the picture 180° since now he was facing the puzzle backwards. Jake usually was the one doing this side. "More and more pieces shift in my mind, but I still can't tell how the entire picture will be."

Isabel's eyes met with his. "If anything," he said, "I've learned that things with you kids rarely stay the same way, and are barely predictable at all. So I just keep a mental inventory of all the facts I have come across… and so I keep watching."

Silence met his words for what felt like forever.

"It must be tiring to remember everything you see and hear," Isabel finally said as Dave started to flip puzzle pieces face up, separating them with a master's experience. He stopped in mid-air and smiled at her, despite the sarcasm implied in her last statement.

"I don't keep everything in my mind, just what I need," he corrected her. He suddenly felt way too self-conscious as Isabel just stared at him, weighing him. He flipped one last piece. Though he had told Liz that he was not going to keep putting his puzzle together while she was there because women felt offended if they didn't have your whole attention, flipping the pieces face up calmed him down and made his ideas go in order again. Especially since Isabel was still wearing that patterned sweater.

She had looked at the puzzle pieces with interest all morning long, and had even flipped one or two when he had stood up to go for a snack, and a few just now. Though she hadn't been restless, her eyes had taken in his whole office. Efficiently and effectively. With her very sharp mind, she had been silently cataloguing this room. He knew because he was used to doing so when he was in other people's rooms.

He knew too she was the type of person who would notice if he was wearing brand clothes, brand shoes, brand cologne, or how long ago his office had been dusted. She _noticed_ those things. The question was, did she _know_ what to do with that kind of information?

"It must be lonely to not have any pictures of those you care about," Isabel said out of the blue, leaving the previous subject behind, taking him by surprise. He was so used to not having pictures of anyone by now that the comment seemed out of place. Like she should know he didn't keep any.

"The most valuable things are stored in my mind," he said, leaving his puzzle alone and walking to the opposite corner from Isabel's position. He stood facing the window, his leather chair separating them both. So now was the moment when Isabel was openly fishing for her own answers.

"It's gotta be easy to be a genius," Isabel said, still looking out of the window.

"It has its moments," he said with a small smile. What would Jake say to the same question? Would Jake see first the bright side and next the dark one? "It's gotta be easy to be able to do all you can do," he stated back. Isabel turned to look at him, and her eyes moved to a spot beside him. To the window. To the _shattered_ window.

"It has its moments," she repeated his own words, returning her gaze to him. He let go the smallest of laughs, his eyes turning to the outside. What a subtle reminder that his safety around these people was all but an illusion.

"Are they really okay? Our parents?" she asked after a long pause, turning to look at him, her eyes as expectant as Dave had imagined her parents' had been when they were listening to Isabel's and Max's story. And he also saw fear in them. Fear that he was lying to her, to them all.

For someone who had lost both their kids and didn't know if they were alive or not, yeah… he had seen worse. "They are okay," he answered her instead. They both held each other's eyes for a moment. She wanted proof, he knew, but the kind of proof she wanted she would only get when she talked with her parents herself. And that wouldn't happen 'til the end of the month because the Special Unit was just too close to their parents now since Maria's birthday was the next day. Oh no, special dates like birthdays and holidays were just about the worst case scenario to set up the kids with their families.

"Once it's safer for you to call them… you know, between Maria's and Max's birthdays…" Dave trailed off. He had already explained this to Liz. Surely Isabel was aware of it by now.

"Speaking of that," Isabel said, all her seriousness returning, with more than a hint of determination in her eyes, "there's something we need to change about your idea for Maria's present."

Dave regarded her for a moment. Why did he suddenly feel like she was not going to give him a choice about this?

_TBC…_


	25. Future

Thank you all for coming back to read! You are almost all caught up with me and the chapters I have already written... But for now, I'm still 3 chapters ahead :)

Thanks a ton for the reviews as well!!!! They truly make my day :D

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**XXV**

**Future**

_Cheese Factory._

The words wouldn't leave Maria's mind as they were entering The Shop. Because her birthday was tomorrow, Maria had started thinking about her future more and more. Not the distant one with Space Boy, a bunch of kids, and a car wash, but the most immediate one. She always did that on her birthday: Tried to decipher what the future would bring next. Therefore she now had in mind what was she going to become. And though the Cheese Factory had never been on her top ten dream jobs list, it had been there, somewhere… down there… at the bottom. The Cheese Factory meant the future she had to avoid at all costs.

Because the Cafeteria had still been full for no apparent reason by 12:30, they had decided to head back to their apartments after their Gym session. Yet Maria had insisted that she needed some things from The Shop, and though she had wanted to come alone, or with Michael, all 5 of them were walking through the pretty much deserted place while Isabel was still at her interview.

Truth be told, Maria was thinking of getting a thing or two for her birthday "celebration". She was sure she had seen cake mixes somewhere, so she was thinking about some small cake, a candle, and five friends chanting "Happy Birthday". Who knew? Maybe a present or two, though she seriously doubted anything from The Shop would qualify as present-material, but okay. It was the thought that counted.

She had checked yesterday that her kitchen indeed had a small oven to cook her birthday cake, and that had brought memories of home. She was certain that her mother was going to cook a delicious cake because it was tradition... and this was Maria's first birthday away… For the millionth time since she had "run away", she wished she could talk to her mother.

God, how she missed her. For everything that Maria hadn't said to her in the past three years, for all the secrets she had kept, now that her mother –probably- knew the whole truth and no more silence was needed, now they couldn't talk. She suppressed a sigh of frustration and the need for punching the next available thing –which was Michael- and kept looking for the box with a cake printed on it.

Her mother had always talked to her about the future. About how great things were waiting for her if she was ready. Always looking for the opportunity to get away from Roswell, New Mexico. Well, Mom, I _did_ get out of Roswell, New Mexico. And probably for good too.

Yep, now here she was, hunting for some stupid cake, in some underground facility where her human-alien boyfriend was bound to stay and play car games. When had her future life changed from being a super star to being in a sci-fi novel? Probably at some point on the 285 South route, and it had stayed on the same path once she had turned down her really good chance at being a pop star.

_Choices_ was the answer to her question. She was exactly where she was because of the choices she had made, and when Michael grunted behind her that he had found the candles, she turned around and kissed him. Her choices had led her to Michael, and that she could never regret.

"Thanks," Maria said, leaving a somehow startled Michael as she turned to the shelves, "Now all I need to find is the cake…"

She knew that Michael hated shopping, but the tension she felt coming in vibes behind her didn't exactly feel like anxiety born out of boredom. She turned once again, this time to face Michael. "What's wrong?" she asked.

"Nothing," Michael defensively said, which let Maria know there actually was _something._ She arched one eyebrow in response.

"It's just that… that you shouldn't need to be looking for a cake…" Michael sort of explained, a little annoyed, and a little… guilty?

"Hey, we might be in a crappy situation, but I still want my cake," Maria tried to joke lightly, and the shadow that passed his eyes didn't exactly reflect what she had aimed for. She bet he was thinking "you are in this crappy situation because of me", and there was nothing she could do to contradict that statement.

"I know," Michael answered, his intense gaze going past her, searching for the cake as well.

Michael was in her very near future as well. Had she been asked five years ago, she would have said that the Cheese Factory wasn't even close to making an appearance on Michael's list. Jail, more likely. Now she wondered what was in store for Michael as well.

Ten feet away, he stopped and silently pointed. What was in store for her Spaceboy, she thought, as she walked to stand beside him, the chocolate, strawberry, and vanilla cake boxes in front of her. Once they had somewhat started a steady relationship, they both had pretty much assumed that his future would end up on a spaceship, and going home. Hadn't he so honestly told her that he could only give her now? Hadn't he said that he couldn't really picture it, but that he himself thought that someday he was going back?

Well, she doubted Michael was ever going _back_. The possibility was still there, sure, but it wasn't as… heavy as it used to be. Nope, they were more thinking about staying alive and ahead of their hunters. Now, _that_ wasn't happening either, since they were already trapped. Gee, talk about hard, unclear and unknown futures… She now missed the days of worrying about ending up in the Cheese Factory…

Michael looked at her intently as she was still staring at the three flavors. By the looks of it, not many people baked too many cakes since there were barely any boxes, let alone a second brand to choose from. She finally picked chocolate. She knew that everybody liked the flavor, especially with Tabasco mixed in it for her three favorite hybrids. She liked spicy food too, but those three were sometimes –if not every time- too much. But hey, at least they could make anything edible by adding Tabasco, and for that she had envied them on some very long days on the road.

Their futures were linked, weren't they? She wondered as they both headed back to the others. She wondered for a brief second what would happen if for some reason she wanted to leave. Would their deal be off since it had to be the six of them? She frowned, deciding that she would ask exactly that to the man with all the answers: Dave. Not that she was thinking of leaving, but it was a rather interesting question.

"Isabel's on her way," Max said as he was checking his G.E.S.

"So she knows we are going to meet at your apartment?" Kyle asked, happily chewing on some cheese snacks. The four of them turned to stare at him since he was eating while still inside The Shop.

"What?" he asked, "it's not like they are going to charge me for it anyways…" he defended himself.

"Yeah, I've just told her," Max answered Kyle's first question as Michael was taking some of the snacks for himself; Max was not far behind. Kyle murmured something about having craved cheese all day long so to go easy on his snack. As Maria placed in front of them the candles and the cake mix box, they all stopped again to stare at what she was doing, making her feel way too self-conscious for some reason. It was her turn to ask, "What?"

As one, the four of them turned to look at anything but the birthday cake. Maria narrowed her eyes. Why did she suddenly have the impression that everybody knew something that she didn't?

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"Well, that's interesting," Michael said with a small smirk, slowly pacing back and forth, as Isabel was telling them about her flash. She had started with the easiest part, she knew, but she was still rummaging in her mind about what to think of the possibility of bringing Jesse there to tell that part of her interview first.

"So, he wants Max to heal him?" Maria asked, turning to look at Max. He looked rather uncomfortable for a second, but then he shook his head.

"If he wanted that, he would have already asked," he quietly said.

"Or rather forced you, if you ask me," Kyle muttered as he was chewing on his nails. Max slightly nodded.

"He might ask for it yet," Michael pointed out. "Maybe there's more to this, but he can certainly benefit from you."

"It wasn't in the deal," Liz said. "I know that's not going to stop him, but… think about it. He would have said so the first time we met."

"He wouldn't admit it to begin with," Isabel explained. "He barely acknowledges it to himself, for all I could gather from that flash. It's a weakness."

"A weakness we can exploit," Michael confidently said, stopping his pacing.

"It is also something we can bargain with," Liz added to Michael's point. "I mean, it's something we have that he might want," she turned to look at Max, giving him a small reassuring smile. He returned it with a small smile of his own, as they locked into each other's eyes. And all the other four members of the merry group collectively rolled their eyes as well. They could be so cheesy even when just giving reassuring smiles…

"That was all there was in the flash?" Michael eagerly asked, forgetting Max and Liz in their little world. Isabel though for a second, narrowing her eyes.

"_David_," she suddenly said. "Jake called Dave 'David'."

"That's not exactly ground breaking information," Michael said, a little annoyed. Isabel returned an annoyed look back.

"It was in the way Jake said it and how that made Dave feel. It was somehow… wrong. There's some significance to the change of name."

"You got that from a flash?" Kyle asked, a little amazed.

"I thought the name changing didn't really matter, but in retrospect... He was really worried about the asthma attack, but when Jake called him 'David', it struck some chord… he didn't like how it sounded." The feeling was fuzzy, and very mixed up with all the very strong emotions that Dave had felt as air had failed to reach his lungs. She still had to factor in the emotional roller coaster she had been put through too, so this memory could be a… a mislead for all she knew. But there was a resonance to it. _David_. "That's all I can recall of the flash."

"What happened after that? After you got the flash?" Maria asked, looking at her intently. She was a little nervous, Isabel noticed, and more eager than she had been when they were having these meetings to update everyone. Maria must really be anxious about her interview tomorrow, Isabel thought for a second, knowing full well what the anticipation felt like.

"He talked about Jesse," she quietly started. The room fell silent instantly, almost as if someone had yelled "freeze!" out of the blue. She didn't like the way they looked at her, but swallowed it knowing they were only worried about her and her husband.

So she told them about Jesse being in Boston and unknowingly working for Dave. She told them about how Dave had told her all about his life, and, finally, that he had given her "permission" to ask him if he wanted to come here.

"What?!" Michael and Maria said at the same time. Max silently regarded her.

"You have to answer him now?" Kyle asked after a tense silence.

"No," she said, "he said I could take my time, but the fact is…" she stopped in mid-sentence. She barely had had time to stop and think this whole thing through, and saying it out loud didn't seem exactly right. "I just don't know what to think about his offer. I don't know what to tell Jesse if I call him."

She turned her eyes to Max as Michael said what she was dreading to hear, "You can't bring Jesse here. That would give Dave yet another advantage over us."

"He already has Jesse on his radar," Liz quietly said, "there's not much difference in that regard…"

Michael gave an exasperated grunt, as if it was so obvious that he was right and there was nothing to consider.

"If he wants to use Jesse against us," Kyle quietly said as well, "it doesn't really matter where the guy is…"

But Isabel's eyes were locked to Max's. It wasn't a matter of if Jesse could be used against them –against her- easier this way or not, it was if Jesse should even consider losing his life again to this. And Max knew that. He knew the terrible burden she was carrying, torn between wanting Jesse back and letting him have the life he was supposed to have. Max slightly shook his head. "This is a decision you should make, not us," he said, with that tone he reserved for very serious issues.

"Max, this affects all of us," Michael argued back, and this time Isabel did turn to look at him. It really hurt to hear this from Michael, because deep down, Isabel knew Michael was right.

"It concerns only two people, Michael," Max said, calm but firm. "Kyle is right, Jesse is already in this game whether he knows it or not, and whether _we_ like it or not. Whatever Dave decides to do, we can't stop him." He paused for two seconds, and then turned to look at her again. "You know Jesse better than any of us. If you think… that he should have the choice to come…" Max trailed off, his words echoing in her mind.

For the second time that day, Isabel wished the decision to bring Jesse back to her life or not didn't have to be on her shoulders.

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To the average eye, Richard Adams didn't seem any different than any 56 year old man. He was thin, tall, still had much of his –graying- hair intact, and wore glasses all the time since contacts and him were not exactly good friends. He liked things neatly ordered, had a soft spot for classic black and white movies, and absolutely hated to be called "Richie". His light blue eyes could stare at the same spot for hours, and some could believe the guy had mummified himself in front of a monitor. Or so Jake liked to tease him.

In reality, he was a prodigy himself. English by birth, he had traveled half the world and was a whiz at computer stuff. He was one of those oddities to kids these days: He was an adult who knew more about their computers than they knew about the latest X-box game. He had worked for MI 6 first, for the CIA later, and had finally gone to the Interpol by the middle of the cold war. There he had first gotten word of Dave.

Now, Richard Adams was the administrator of the whole complex, and aside from Dave, Richard knew exactly who was who and had a general idea of what they were doing in each and every one of the 120 labs that were in this place. After all, Richard's mind kept everything on file, much like Dave's and Jake's did.

Just like everything in his life, his thoughts were very ordered too. One thing led to the next one. One, two, three. A, B, C. From this point directly to the next, no shortcuts taken, nothing out of place. And that exactly was his weakest point, and why, back in the day, he hadn't been able to catch Dave. Because, really, who could compete against chaos? And for all Richard knew, Dave's mind was exactly that: Chaos.

_But a chaos that works…_ Richard muttered to himself as he was checking his watch. 2:43 p.m. At 3:00 p.m. he had a meeting with the newest residents of the complex, and Richard was… curious. Dave had never re-scheduled anyone in the six years Richard had been an Administrator to this place. In fact, in all the time that Dave had come and gone to the complex in the last eight months, this was the first time that he had stayed this long and had taken such care of his "guests".

At first, Richard had thought that Dave had stayed around because of his birthday, and since Jake was here as well, it was only natural. But that call on Monday afternoon to re-schedule these six new people… It was suspicious, and that was why Richard was curious. After all, it had been a while since Richard had gotten to discover something new about Dave.

_Chaos_, he repeated to himself. Groups of six had been coming for the past six months, and Richard had had the keen eye to spot which of those six were actually valuable to Dave. These groups never lasted. They were really some sort of distraction to bring one or two out of those six into this place, and soon everyone else was reassigned to the other facilities around the world. Though every time it was getting harder and harder to spot who was the important one.

But these six… Three worked with Jake and three worked with Ray. The two closest people to Dave Richard knew about, aside from Susset. What was so important about these six then? That was why he had come to the Cafeteria in the first place, to see what others knew about these strangers.

Thursdays were the best days to get the scoop on what was really going on. For some forgotten reason, people had chosen Thursdays to gather and, well, gossip. It was supposed to be an exchange of information and getting to know your neighbors from other departments, but Richard knew –just as everybody else knew- that the real reason everyone came here was to know everything but science.

He checked his watch again, 2:46. Time to go. He reluctantly stood up from his place in the Cafeteria and, nodding to his friends as he passed them by, finally reached the entrance and crossed in the direction of his office. No one was talking about the six kids… He knew that they had already gone to the Network Keepers Base and had spent the last afternoon at Engineering, but both Network Keepers and engineers hadn't been around this Thursday. Keepers were well entertained by Dave's latest appearance in Maui for all Richard knew, and engineers were really occupied with the new security system.

No, Richard would have to wait for another week to get any insightful information. The fact that Jake and Ray hadn't made it into the Cafeteria-gossip-heaven was curious too. What were these six new White Cards doing with Jake and Ray to begin with? Even with his own White Card and Six Level Clearance, Richard only had a general description of what they were doing. And if Jake was involved, it had to be something _very_ interesting.

He felt like he had been left out of the loop. And that was a really hard position to be in, Richard thought as he took the elevator and went two floors below. To be the Administrator of this entire place meant that Dave trusted him a great deal. After all, if Richard really wanted to, he could place Dave in real trouble, and both men knew that. It could be really simple, since Richard was in that selective 18 that actually knew who Dave was. And, to make it even more exclusive, he was also in that 1.56 that knew Dave's past as well.

Few things in Dave's life were blanks to Richard -or so he liked to think-, mainly the last two years. After all, because the older man had been chasing the elusive Dave, he had been granted permission to see a lot of "for your eyes only" documents. And right when he had thought he had had Dave, Dave had turned things around and had had Richard instead. The hunter had become the hunted.

And an offer had been made.

But all that was old news. _Really_ old news. Sixteen years ago old news to be precise, right before Dave faked his own death. Something Dave wouldn't have been able to do without Richard's assistance, now that he was thinking about it. Yet Richard knew better than to go against Dave. He had gotten a pretty good deal 16 years ago, and he was not about to mess that up. After all, in all that time, Richard had gotten to see both sides of Dave: The "good" one and the "bad" one, and he certainly wanted to remain on the first one.

Dave was easy going most of the time, so Richard had had a good time being the Administrator, especially since he got a lot of freedom to act as he saw fit. Except for Network Keepers and two or three people, the complex pretty much ran itself. The Keepers were an annoyance most of the time, Richard reflected as he entered his office at 2:54, but were needed. After all, any security breaches that these kids could find meant a better and improved security system, not to mention all the chores they had to do to keep this place up to date.

God, had he been beyond annoyed when they had messed with the time controllers, making everyone believe they were 3 hours off… Dave had laughed over the video conference, and had laughed when they both had met later and discussed the matter.

"_How could they not notice what they have stumbled upon?"_ _Dave had said as they were looking through what the Keepers had done, with a smile on his face._

"_It doesn't bother you that they could have messed up a lot more than just time controllers?" Richard had said, worried at the lack of importance Dave seemed to be giving the matter._

"_I don't usually worry about what didn't happen, Richard. But they do amuse me." _

And indeed, after they both had cleared up and rewrote a couple of thousands of lines into the program, there was no need to worry about what the Keepers hadn't done. But sure, Dave could be annoying as well. Richard let go a small, mischievous smile. When for some reason he wanted to annoy Dave, he would call him David, and Dave would just turn to look at him, and start his next sentence with "Richie". Dave was _very_ aware that Richard knew far more than he should about Dave's own past, but as long as Richard didn't use that to his advantage, Dave let it go. Though they weren't friends, they both respected each other as the old enemies they had once been. After all, if you broke and traced Dave's codes, you got the rare praise and attention of Dave himself.

Of course, Richard had to swallow hard that he had lost and Dave had won. Wasn't it proof enough that Richard was working for Dave now?

His watch read 3:00 p.m. and no one made an appearance. _That _was annoying. He hated when people weren't on time. When at 3:03 p.m. someone knocked at his door, Richard had already reviewed all his theories about the six people that were about to enter his domain.

Not that Richard would ever get to know that none of those theories were right.

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Michael was confused. And for once, it didn't have anything to do with Maria.

He didn't like to be confused. Worse yet, he didn't like Max's eyes on him, waiting for Michael to tell him what was on his mind. Because Michael couldn't really pin down what was on his mind to begin with.

It all had started when they had entered the Administration office, and for some reason Michael had been expecting it to look like the Principal's office –a place he had seen many times- but it had surprisingly looked a lot like Jake's place, except that the room had been walled up with shelves and shelves of books. On one side was the administration's desk, and at the other his living room, much like Jake's as well. For some reason too, Michael had felt as if he were walking into an ambush.

Two and a half hours later, he had felt yet again like he was in the middle of an ambush. And the feeling had had nothing to do with the place, but with the disjointed flash he had –finally!- gotten in that room. Of course, the key word there was _disjointed._

"I don't know what I saw. It doesn't make sense!"

Michael irritably said while stepping out from behind the counter that separated the kitchen/pantry from the living room –pretty much the same way his apartment had been- and started to pace, passing his hands through his hair in an attempt to clear his thoughts away.

Max silently watched him, and for some reason that was worse than Max saying anything. At least if Max opened his mouth, then Michael could shut him up for him to think in peace. But Max had learned his lesson long ago, and so now he was waiting for Michael to get a grip on his own.

Michael glared at Max. What, Max had shaken Dave's hand and had gotten a pretty neat vision about Dave worrying if they didn't accept. Isabel had casually picked up a puzzle piece and had gotten a Technicolor version of Dave having an asthma attack. But no, of course he couldn't even get one flash straight.

"You saw Richard…" Max tentatively said, as if trying to focus Michael's mind one piece at a time.

"You know how he was in the middle of all those rules and stuff about this place," Michael said, stopping his pacing. Max nodded. "So I got bored and started thinking about what Isabel said, you know, about _David_." Max nodded again.

It had all been so fast. Richard had handed Maria a pen for her to scribble something he had just said, and she had dropped the pen. So Michael had absently picked it up and then…

"He ambushed him," Michael started, frowning. He had gotten several images, but they didn't make sense. When he had picked up the pen and had gotten the flash, he had almost fallen himself –tripping over Maria and almost bringing her down with him as well- and had dropped the pen not even two seconds afterwards.

"Who ambushed whom?" Max asked, looking intently at Michael.

"I don't know. It might have been Dave to Richard or Richard to Dave…" Michael said in frustration, turning and going to sit on the couch. Max followed him with his gaze, still standing on the other side of the counter. "It feels like both." And it sounded like crap. But it was like Isabel had said, it _felt_ that way.

"But what exactly did you see?" Max pressed, "I mean, for you to get that feeling…"

"Richard was seeing some paper in a folder. It had red letters, reading something like 'confidential' or 'for your eyes only' or that kind of crap that movies show. I don't know, but I got the feeling this Richard guy was reading about Dave."

"So it was Richard ambushing Dave," Max rationalized. Michael shook his head.

"No, there were these numbers… Not in the file… just a random image I got… The numbers from the wall in Dave's office I think," Michael's eyes traveled to that moment in time when he had looked up to those numbers. If the ones from his vision were the same, then those numbers _really_ meant something important. "I think Richard thought he had gotten Dave, but it turned out the other way around. It felt like a long time ago as well…" It sounded right enough, okay, but Michael couldn't make sense of all the other blurry images he had gotten. And it was frustrating to no end.

"I'm sure it'll become clear soon," Max started to offer, but Michael just grunted as he sat on his couch. He tried to concentrate on each and every image. Not just about the numbers, but the feelings as well… About catching Dave… about catching someone important… someone dangerous. Someone too young to be that dangerous. But it was all too vague.

"I don't know what the hell I saw," he repeated after a minute. "It was… it had to do… with numbers… and that file…"

"You have had these kinds of flashes before, and they come clear later," Max said again, trying to calm him.

"The problem Max is that we don't have time for that!" Michael snapped back. "If this Richard knows things about Dave—"

A knock interrupted Michael's words. Both Max and Michael turned to look at the door. Knocking -and not ringing- was almost an assurance that the outsider was one of their group and not someone else. Max left the kitchen and opened the door. Isabel entered after crossing looks with her brother.

"What did you get?" Isabel directly asked Michael, who only raised his eyebrows. How did she know? "Come on Michael, I've seen you getting flashes before, I know you got one," she said, standing in the living room as Max went to lean over the wall where the counter was.

"It's not clear," Michael said, angry at Isabel knowing, angry at the fact he couldn't get one damned flash straight too. Isabel let go a sigh of almost… relief?

"I thought you had gotten something bad… bad enough to not want to share it with the others," Isabel explained.

"Well it is bad enough if I can't piece it together," Michael said, his frustration growing. Isabel turned to look at Max, worried.

"I've already told him that it would become clear with time. He already knows the flash is about Dave ambushing Richard… or something…" Max said, unconsciously rubbing his right ear lobe.

"Ambushing?" Isabel said, alarmed. "What do you mean, 'ambushing'? Like he did with us?"

"No," Michael said, frowning. "Nothing like that. It was more like…" Michael tried to refocus on his flash. What had Richard felt when he was reading that file? "It was like a mind game or something… I think Richard was following Dave, but hell if I know how long ago. It just felt like a really old thing."

"And Dave ambushed him," Isabel repeated Michael's words out loud. "But… that's a good thing then," Isabel said, and both Michael and Max stared at her as if she had turned purple out of the blue.

"Think about it," she said, alternating looking at her brother and Michael, "Dave ambushed Richard probably a long time ago, and yet Richard is down here. That means Dave respects his deals."

"We don't know why Richard is here in the first place," Michael pointed out. "And Richard is not like us."

Isabel tried to argue but stopped herself before starting. She turned to look at Max as if trying to find help there. Max looked at Michael for a moment, and then turned to look at Isabel. "Michael's right. Richard is not like us," and then he looked back at Michael, "But Isabel is right too. If Richard was trying to ambush Dave then he was Dave's enemy. Yet he's here. That's interesting at least."

"That's useless," Michael half grunted as he leaned further back on the couch, staring at the ceiling. How long would it take him to decipher his flash? And what if, after all, there was nothing useful there? Another knock on the door made him sit straight again.

It was Kyle this time, and as Isabel was closing the door she had opened a minute before, a silence fell in the room. Kyle looked at the three of them rather uncomfortably. "What? This was an-aliens-only meeting?" Before any of the three could sort of deny that –it had started as a Max-Michael meeting to be truthful- Kyle dismissively moved his hand in mid-air. "Whatever. Liz and Maria are still cooking Maria's birthday cake at Maria's place, so I was heading to my apartment but I wanted to know how the plans for tomorrow were going. You've got Dave's permission?"

At the mere thought of "tomorrow's plans" a.k.a. Maria's present, Michael tensed. Who the hell cared about the damned flash when more pressing issues were at hand? Like Maria being up there with Dave tomorrow morning… He wasn't sure if his veins were freezing, or if his blood was boiling…

But Isabel nodded to Kyle's question. "He seemed a little surprised though. I guess he didn't see any problem with splitting us up tomorrow," Isabel said. "He just frowned a moment, and then said we should have a good time." Michael just rolled his eyes. When Dave had told him what he could do for Maria's present, Michael had thought it was all a set up of some kind. After a day of mulling it over, he had finally told Max and Isabel. And both had agreed with him that it could all come off as a set up, _but_… It could really be just a good idea... So Isabel had come up with a way of keeping the good idea and feeling like this wasn't that much of a set up. If things went along smoothly once she presented the change to Dave, then they would all breathe easily tomorrow morning, afternoon and night.

"So, we're all set?" Kyle asked, first looking at Isabel, and then looking at Michael. Max and Isabel also turned to look at him as if he had the final word on this whole thing. Great, just great…

If he survived tomorrow's anxiety and _if_ this place survived his anxiousness as well, then… well… He reluctantly nodded at Kyle, Max and Isabel. They all had agreed it was, in fact, a good idea, but Michael was still way too wired at the prospect of Maria's interview. If he could have it his way, then Maria would be spending her birthday anywhere but here. Yeah… just great…

He just hoped, really, _really_ hoped, that this time around he had gotten Maria's present right.

_TBC..._


	26. Night Visions

Thank you all for coming back to read! And welcome to the new readers and reviewers. This is one of my favorite chapters, actually, so I'm looking forward to your comments. Thanks!

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**XXVI**

**Night Visions**

It was the thought that wasn't letting Jake sleep. The same thought that had been slowly creeping into the back of his mind ever since he had seen Max, Michael and Isabel entering his office and had made him say: "_For Pete's sake, you are going to faint!"_

It was that same thought that was the reason behind why Jake had been progressively trying to corner Dave for the past three days, as Ray had noticed. The very thought that was now running through his mind 24/7: _What is Dave really up to?_ And, lately, Jake had also been trying to figure out why he had so willingly –and cheerfully- fallen into Dave's plan.

Well, if Jake had to pick a talent for Dave, it would be that Dave had a damned good talent for letting you draw your own conclusions. He was a master at omissions, which were actually easier to keep in check than flat out lies. Dave didn't like to lie because it wasn't practical, and though omitting things came with its own bag of problems, it was actually easier. Besides, when it came to placing blame, well… Jake had to admit that he had gotten carried away by his own fault.

It had all made sense, really. Dave needed to deal with the kids' trust issues, and with everything that had happened to them in four years, those weren't –by any rate- small issues. Jake had gotten a general version of all those things in the beginning, and once he had said he was really eager to help Dave, he had gotten a more detailed version. But Jake had mostly stayed out of the way of Ray and Dave. Until they both had asked him for an opinion on how to get them off the road, Jake had spent a lot of time reading anything he could put his hands on about paranormal research. There was a lot of useless information to read through, but some things were really interesting.

Jake gave a little sad laugh. He had immersed himself in the subject and Dave had blissfully left him ignorant of anything else. If Jake wasn't asking it, then Dave wasn't telling it. So, when Jake had asked things about their families and their lives in general, Dave had accordingly responded about it "in general".

He had later gotten access to Meta-Chem's and the Special Unit's research, which were no small wonders, and that had been the first time that he had really wondered how important these kids were to Dave. It all had been so clear for Jake then. These amazing kids were wandering around, with no clear path, with no end point, just waiting to be caught. Hence tracking them, trapping them and then letting them go. Dave had said as much, of course, and the annoying part was that it was all true. Every single piece of information that Dave had given him, from their alien origins to the research to their vulnerability out there was all true.

From the moment that Dave had presented him the project, Jake had always _known_ that Dave was after their safety. More than anything else Dave's biggest concern was to get them off the road, and Jake had thought that otherwise, those kids would have been doomed to stay on the run for the rest of their lives. _But_… here were the omissions, Jake thought as he rolled onto his side. Why had it taken Dave two years to reach the conclusion that they "needed" him? And better yet, why had Dave spent seven months planning how to get them off the road?

Oh yeah, Jake perfectly understood Dave's plan about crashing their illusions and following Ray's plan about the gas leak and all that stuff, but… that was an awful lot of time preparing the catch. That should have given Jake the first clue that there was a lot of information that Dave was not sharing.

Jake snorted to himself. Really, the _first_ clue had stared right at him the first moment he had gotten a look at those three hybrids standing in his office. They had never wanted to be studied, much less had they accepted this offer out of the sheer joy of scientific explanations and the advancements it could potentially bring to the world of tomorrow. That should have given him the first clue as to how much he had been assuming right away.

Even when they had arrived early just barely a week ago, he had done a thoroughly general medical check on each one of them, because just like Dave, Jake was worried about their well being. If Dave had had it his way, they would have stayed sedated for a week and not only three days, but it all had made sense in Jake's mind. It _always_ had made sense in Jake's mind.

The plan had worked. For any reasons stored in Dave's psyche, the plan had worked perfectly and the six kids were here, weren't they? Now Jake found himself trapped in the middle of his best friend's plan and the future of these kids.

_What is it that you want, Dave? And why are you not telling me a word of it?_ Jake had wanted to ask this of Dave that morning while Dave had been recovering from his asthma attack and Ray had been dismissed. Contrary to whatever Ray might have thought, Jake and Dave had remained silent for the rest of the hour, both men lost in their own thoughts. It was a long shot, but Jake had wanted for Dave to talk out of the blue if only to fill the silence. Except that the tactic hadn't exactly worked. Dave had never been afraid of silence, and could very well hold his tongue for whatever amount of time he needed to. Hadn't Jake been witness to that in the past? It unnerved Jake how Dave could go into his mind and shut everyone else out. Especially when they had been kids.

Jake rolled yet once more to the other side of his bed. If there had been any chance to get Dave to talk, it had been this morning. Asthma attacks had always left Dave feeling uneasy, his mind foggy. Jake laughed at himself again. Dave might have slipped one or two times had he been questioned at that moment, but more likely than not, he would have turned to look at Jake with a vacant expression and conveniently changed subjects. Oh yeah, Jake knew the tactic really well.

When they had met later to talk about Isabel, Dave had been distracted as well, but this time around he had been immersed in Isabel's re-telling of their story. Especially about Tess, and Jake's interest had been sparked.

"_I don't get it," Dave had said out of the blue, "all four of them have their big issues with the girl, which is understandable, and I knew it was going to be hard to get a somewhat objective idea of her out of the four, but… Things don't add up."_

No, they didn't add up. Many probably because they were distorted now by the kids' accounts of events. Some because, in the end, Tess had mostly been a loner who had never gotten a chance to explain her side, assuming the girl had had a more honorable side than what Isabel had described... But that aside, it was something else that had gotten Jake really thinking: For someone who had dreamwalked Max to save him from the White Room, and who had later dreamwalked Laurie Dupree to find her, the other four kids who had already been interviewed didn't seem to find that relevant in the least.

When Max and Isabel had first started talking about their abilities, it had seemed to Jake odd that they would share all of their powers, but that Max and Tess would be… _enhanced_ further. He had wondered if maybe Isabel's and Michael's abilities to heal, dreamwalk and mindwarp were just dormant. Now he was curious at the possibility that maybe there was more to these "unique" abilities than the kids had first told. It would stand to reason that they would lie about certain things. What if they could all dreamwalk? It would be a safe way to communicate without anyone being suspicious.

He kept remembering Ray's words about the funny dream he had had where Isabel was asking him if he was an alien. When Ray had first brought it up, Jake had thought it was a strange dream, and the thought had stuck with him for no good reason all this time. He kept thinking about what all three of them had said in the past three days. He also kept thinking about the things that Dave had told him, especially the bits and pieces they had found in the "alien book". And it all kept swirling around his mind, his own inner puzzle.

_Why me?_ Jake finally thought. Why had Dave picked him to deal with this entire thing? There were a lot of people who would qualify really well for the job. People who would have asked no questions at all to begin with, let alone try to corner Dave. Jake frowned. That was a part of the puzzle he hadn't really considered. He was part of Dave's pieces, wasn't he? Dave had carefully thought this whole thing through, and for some reason had wanted Jake here. Jake frowned even deeper.

Why would Dave not want a random person dealing with the aliens' secret? Dave dealt with sensitive information all the time, and trusted others when it came to dealing with it. All kinds of research, transactions, business and information. Hell, Dave hadn't even trusted Susset with this, and his assistant certainly dealt with more secrets than Ray and Jake ever did combined.

Dave had only trusted them, and _trusted_ might even be a little bit of a stretch. After all, he wasn't telling them the whole plan. He didn't want anyone knowing the whole plan. He had scattered his informants when he had first sent them into Roswell, and now he only wanted Jake and Ray close to them. Obviously, the less people who knew, the better.

That was a measure to protect the "Pod Squad", of course, yet… why all the secrecy about his plan? Why all these omissions? Why not tell Ray, or Jake, or, -God forbid!- the kids themselves? The nagging feeling in Jake's gut told him that it was because Dave was up to no good.

"But I know you, Dave!" Jake whispered in frustration, now lying face up on his bed, "Why won't you tell me? What are you after that is so bad you can't even bring yourself to tell me, yet you put me right in the middle of your plans?"

And then, for the first time, an idea intruded in Jake's mind: What if Dave was not keeping his plan secret because he thought he was not doing the right thing, but rather because he knew if he told them, if he told _him_, he would be putting Jake in danger?

What was Dave afraid of? Why was he so afraid someone else might find out the truth about what he wanted to do?

* * *

"This place sure has a lot of rules…" Liz said as she was trying to open the ice cream for dessert. Max absently reached for it beside her as he was sitting in their tiny dining room. He was feeling tired. _Really_ tired. Liz turned around to fetch a couple of spoons and, as he placed the ice cream in the middle of their small round table, she stopped to look at him.

"You look exhausted Max," she said, with an uncertainty that Max both heard in her voice and felt in her connection. She was worried.

"I guess sleep is finally catching up with me," he jokingly said. He knew, just as Liz knew, that he hadn't been sleeping much in the past week. If it wasn't late conversations and early wakings, it was dreaming about white rooms, and bad situations or just plain insomnia, and that—

"Did you feel something different this morning?" Liz asked, efficiently cutting through his thoughts.

"Different? About what?" Max asked her back, his spoon going deep into the ice cream. Liz just stared at him for a whole ten seconds, making Max stop with his spoon and, looking at her, really think what had happened that morning.

He had woken up really early, around 5:30 and, unable to sleep, he had showered, washed the dishes, cleaned up the little mess they could possibly have made in the four days they had been living in this place, explored the menu on his plasma monitor and, by 6:45, he had started preparing breakfast, which had awakened Liz some half an hour later. He frowned. Liz was still staring at him, expectant, as if he had never asked her what she was talking about.

Maybe she was referring to the fact that Dave had changed Isabel's hour and therefore Ray had let them change theirs as well? He couldn't think of _anything_ else that had gone differently that morning.

"You didn't feel… anything different… in our connection?" Liz asked, a tinge of fearfulness in her voice. It was Max's turn to worry.

"What do you mean 'different'?" His side of the connection felt charged as he suddenly directed all his attention to it. Was there something different after all?

"I don't know… it felt… sort of low. Like you suddenly were far away or something, when you were just right there, in the kitchen," Liz explained, seated beside him, her spoon forgotten in her right hand.

Max took Liz's left hand in his own, their connection becoming stronger as they were physically linked. His eyes focused on hers. He could feel her emotions as if they were his, all those thoughts that had been accumulating in her mind for the past week. Everything that he had been feeling in the past few hours was there as well. Nothing felt amiss.

"I don't feel anything different," he said, frowning. "Do you?" Liz shook her head, her eyes pensive.

"It was only for an instant this morning and then it was gone, the feeling that it was low, I mean. I don't know Max, maybe I'm making too much out of this… but…" she let go of the spoon over the table and reached with her right hand for Max's cheek.

"Maybe we are too tired or too worried and we might not be noticing these… signs, you know? That we are reaching some limit as to how much we can handle. Maybe we really should try to take things easy for a night and rest."

"_It is not the FBI who is going to kill you in the long run, you know. It's stress." _Dave's words echoed in Max's mind as he heard Liz. The thought that he hadn't been aware at all that Liz was feeling their connection was low troubled him. He _had_ been tired in the morning, and he did feel like he could sleep for a week as well. It was just that… there were too many things to keep in mind to let go and relax.

Liz closed in for a light kiss, and as their foreheads touched she whispered, "Go to sleep Max, you really need it." He nodded wordlessly as he kissed her, soothingly caressing her back. "I'll be there in a minute," she coaxed as she stood up, lifting him with her.

"But it's so good in here," he said, unable to resist stealing one more kiss from his wife. She lightly laughed and, with a pointing index towards their bedroom, she pushed him with her other hand.

"Go!"

He finally complied and went to their bedroom. Now that he knew he was heading to dreamland his body started to feel heavier, his eyelids wanting to close sooner rather than later. He barely registered he had brushed his teeth and, peeking one last time to see what was taking Liz so long –she was making a list of some sort and posting it on the fridge's door- he finally headed to their bed.

He sat down, his eyelids barely staying open now, as if someone had switched him from "awake" to "sleep". He felt like the room swayed for an instant. Gosh, he couldn't remember when he had been so tired that he couldn't keep his eyes open. It wasn't a drugged feeling, just sheer tiredness and the need of rest. Too much was happening right now, and things could still go so wrong…

Still seated on his side of the bed, he closed his eyes and tried to let his mind go blank. Liz was right, he needed to sleep. Otherwise, he was not going to think clearly tomorrow, and with Michael's anxiousness going sky high he _needed_ to have a clear mind tomorrow. He had every confidence in Maria doing more than all right with Dave –the girl was an expert on verbal traps to begin with- and he was really looking forward to celebrating her birthday even if the circumstances weren't exactly the best. They all needed a little bit of calm, he vaguely thought as his ideas started to get diffused, merging with each other.

And so he fell asleep. Literally. He fell on his left side, slowly at first, his feet still touching the floor, but by the time he hit the pillow things were getting tangled in his mind.

He _did_ remember when had been the last time he had felt so tired, exhausted actually: The night he had healed the kids with cancer. And he had fallen as well then, hadn't he? One instant he had healed Sydney and was going to leave, and the next one he had decided he couldn't. He'd always had a pretty good idea that he couldn't heal too many injuries or sickness at once, because the more complicated or extended the illness, the more it took out of his energy.

He had felt the strong pull that Brody's daughter had taken out of him, but in such a small body, he had been able to handle it fairly well. The flashes had startled him then, such strange memories that he had never had himself, since he had never been that age. Young memories. The things that mattered to a six year old girl were entirely different from the things that would matter to a sixteen year old girl. Yet, for all the things he had had to fix in her little body, the healing had been rather quick, and though he had stood up a little shaken, overall he had felt good. But glancing around… seeing all those kids…

Part of him warned himself that there were too many kids to heal, but the other part of him argued that, because they were kids, he would be able to handle it. By the third child he had just shut off the side of his mind that was sending one hell of an alarm over the fact that he was barely able to stand. He could _not_ keep healing before his entire energy reserve was swept away. He barely remembered thinking _then I better hurry. _His mind had been frenetic at the thought of not being able to reach the last kid. He had seen all the possibility that lay ahead of them, and the responsibility that lay in his hands.

How could he not?

But after the last boy… That feeling of exhaustion overtook him in a way that nothing had ever overtaken him before. It all had gotten blurred, a headache had taken residence at the back of his mind, a strange subtle buzz played in his ears, and breathing had taken such an enormous effort. He had briefly realized that he was feeling really warm, and he had wondered for a second if that was what having a fever felt like. Things had definitely swayed then.

As Max was falling asleep over his bed, that memory got fused with reality. As he softly hit the mattress he saw himself hitting the Phoenix Hospital's floor. Everything felt in slow motion, the sounds coming in as far away echoes. He could hear his heart beating slower and slower. Where was Michael? He momentarily wondered, and in the logic of dreams he knew that Michael wasn't there. He was alone, and he was powerless.

God, he felt so tired. Lying on his side on the floor, he knew people were coming. He could hear them trying to open the door. Urgency took over him. He had to get out of there and escape. He tried to move but nothing happened. His body just wouldn't respond. All Max wanted in that moment was to lie down and rest, and on the other hand he needed to get up and run. His heart started to beat faster as anxiousness was gaining on him. He was going to be trapped.

The door was opened an instant later, but from his position in the floor Max's eyes could barely make out any shapes. Things seemed to be seen through a lens that had been sprayed with water, shapes not having any definition and colors getting all mixed up. He could sense them coming, fast, and the more he fought with himself to stay awake, the more he could feel unconsciousness overcoming him. For some odd reason it felt good that they were coming though, and this puzzled him as he kept struggling to move and do something.

Max's consciousness failed to tell him that, in the real world, Liz had opened the door and had seen the uncomfortable way her husband had taken to sleep. Max had just seemed to drop on the bed without even taken his shoes off. An overwhelming desire to lie next to him spread all over her soul. The poor guy was so dead to the world right now, Liz thought, that an entire stampede could cross the room and he wouldn't notice. And it was about time as well. Max seriously needed to sleep.

As Liz bent down to untie his shoes and put his legs on the bed, Max's mind tried to reconcile both worlds. His subconscious kept merging both realities in his dream. People were around him. He was lying on his side, unable to move, hardly able to breath. He felt more and more tired, and at the same time more and more desperate. If Michael wasn't there, then no one knew where he was. What were they going to do to him? Of all the places in the world, he had to be trapped in a _hospital_?

He tried to panic, but oddly enough he was just glad that someone had come to his aid. He felt them moving him into a straight position. Gentle hands turned him so he would be face up. He was afraid though. Afraid that these nurses and doctors would discover what he was in mere minutes and that he would be unable to do a darned thing about it. He tried to speak, to say something that would make them understand that he had done no harm to the kids. That he himself meant no harm to anyone, but he couldn't form a word.

When Liz finally had Max in the right position –face up right beside her- she put her hand over his chest, which was her favorite spot to sleep. In Max's dreamworld, a doctor materialized out of nowhere and was listening to his heart with a stethoscope. Max's heart tried to beat faster, but in fact he could hear it going slower again, as if he should be comfortable with the sensation on his chest.

Max tried to tell him that all he needed was rest. That nothing was wrong with him. That no test needed to be done. He struggled to look at him, to bring him into focus and, to his surprise, it was Jake who looked back at him in return. For a moment things didn't make sense. Why would Jake be there? Still, Jake's worried expression at what he was listening to scared Max.

"You need to stay asleep," Jake said, and Max understood then that it wasn't what Jake was listening to that worried him, but the fact that Max was awake. Jake needed to do his tests while Max was asleep. Darkness was overpowering the edges of his view as Max wanted to ask Jake what he was going to do to him. He lay helpless in Jake's hands as the world finally lost any definition, color, and sound, and he was sucked into a dreamless blackness.

Max woke up with a start a couple of hours later feeling restless. His body was tense, and the memory of his last dream was still very vivid in his mind. Though it was the middle of the night he was wide awake, his heart beating faster than it should for someone who was lying down with his wife peacefully sleeping beside him. Yet one single thought wouldn't leave his mind. The question they had all ignored for the past six days.

What had Jake actually done to him –to all of them- while they had been unconscious?

* * *

Dave was still out of her reach, and Isabel was growing more and more impatient with each passing minute. Of all the things she had thought Dave was going to tell her that morning, giving her the option of bringing Jesse had not been on that list. Her entire perspective on this whole thing had shifted into something she didn't like. She wanted to hear that Jesse was safe, and that he would remain so for as long as they stayed here, but the idea of contacting Jesse, bringing him here…

She felt like there was a catch. Somewhere, somehow, Dave was using Jesse against her. But why? He already had her –had them- so what purpose could bringing Jesse here serve?

_I've got to find out what he's after,_ she had told herself the minute she had stepped out of his office. And the closest –and fastest- way she had available was entering the man's dreams. Of course, that itself wouldn't tell her much of his plan, but it would tell her about him. And a subconscious mind was a very good place to start looking for clues. Whatever Dave was dreaming, it would help her figure out if she should consider calling Jesse in the first place. If Jesse would want to come to the complex was an entirely different matter, but first things first. If she was really going to ask him to come, she had to be sure of more things than the few ones they barely had.

Yet, with every failed attempt in the last three nights to enter his dreamplane, Isabel grew more and more upset. She was sure now that Dave _was_ human. He had to be after she had gotten the flash of his asthma attack. So, why wasn't she able to enter this man's dreams? What was she doing wrong? Could there possibly be people she couldn't dreamwalk? It would only figure Dave would fall into that category, she sullenly thought.

What was worse was that now she was really contemplating dreamwalking Jake. To hell with her worries of Jake figuring out it was actually her in his dream. Aside from Max, no one had ever known she was there, and that didn't even really count since her brother had been expecting her to begin with.

She thought about it for the next ten minutes, Jake's face becoming clearer in her mind. Since she didn't have a picture, she had to really concentrate on a mental image to get across. She needed to see Dave's dreams, really, but how far could Jake be from Dave's own agenda? They sure were working together, towards the same thing, so…

Besides, she _needed _to do something, to know something else, and she could feel the sparks running under her skin. She absently rubbed her fingers to get rid of the tingling feeling as she tried to calm herself down. Granted, she wasn't planning on calling Jesse the very next day, but the idea that Dave was going to slip from her grasp in two days did nothing good for her cautiousness. And sure Jake was bound to know things about Dave, important, personal things about his best friend.

There sure seemed to be a million reasons to try to dreamwalk Jake, and only her fear of discovery was holding her back. Why was she so afraid of Jake, anyway? For all the nightmares she had ever had about a mad scientist and dark laboratories, this whole situation had become somehow surreal. Jake was exactly the total opposite of her idea of what was waiting for her behind that lab door. He was so… _eager_ to work with them on good terms. And that look of anger when he had dismissed them yesterday… Anger directed at Dave. It was as if Jake was trying to look out for their best interests.

Still, she probably was subconsciously afraid of Jake because of what he represented: White walls and white lab coats. Yet the man had proven to be a fairly likeable person. She bit her lip and rolled to her side. She felt rather foolish for not trying Jake earlier, but she told herself that Jake could actually suspect she was around. What, with all the talk about their powers, he could very well at least think that dreaming about her was strange. Well, she was not planning on dreamwalking him every single night from here to eternity, so…

Without thinking about it any further, she closed her eyes and concentrated on finding Jake. At 1:10 a.m. he had to be sleeping. Because if he was as unreachable as Dave was, then she was _really_ going to panic and think those two were "not from around here" either, asthma flash or no asthma flash.

A few seconds passed, and nothing happened. Then… the blackness didn't seem too black anymore. She frowned. It usually only took a couple of seconds to get in –when she had a picture, of course- but with all the adrenaline running through her veins she wasn't sure if she had managed. Maybe Jake was asleep but not dreaming. If that was the case, she would have to wait and try yet again later and—

An image suddenly appeared and she then understood why the blackness didn't seem so black: Jake's dream was happening in a movie theater, and now the movie was starting. She had been staring at the dark empty screen when she had entered the man's dream. A couple of seconds went by until she could place where the scene was from, and it shocked her. Jake was dreaming about _E.T._?

She turned around to find the owner of the dream, and there he was, in the front row, taking notes, intently watching at the screen, the scene repeating itself. She frowned. The scene was one close to the ending, she recalled from the only time she had ever seen the movie. One of the doctors was talking to the protagonist's brother about how _E.T. _communicated through Eliot.

"_Eliot thinks its thoughts?"_ the doctor asked in the big screen.

"_No, Eliot feels its feelings." _The kid answered.

The scene froze as Jake stood up to pace. Isabel took a seat some five rows behind and watched him. It wasn't lost to her that the dialogue she had just heard was pretty much like how their connections worked. Max and Liz or Michael and Maria didn't know each other's thoughts, but felt each other's feelings. Jake was trying to make sense of their powers then, she guessed, and it was somehow creepy that in his subconscious mind he was thinking about _E.T._ when it came to their powers.

She crossed her arms and kept watching him. He was scribbling something on a notepad, but if she were able to see it, all she would see would be gibberish lines here and there. In dreams no letters or numbers made sense. They would always appear distorted even if for the dreamer they would make total sense.

_Come on Jake…_ _give me something useful_, Isabel anxiously thought as the screen remained frozen and Jake kept writing. She knew that the longer she remained there, the more likely Jake would remember her. But just as she was worrying about that, Jake suddenly stopped, thoughtful, and looked straight at her.

The movie theater changed, though not so much. It transformed into a college auditorium, like the ones at Isabel's former college. To her surprise, now Dave was also there, sitting in the front row, as if she and he were the only two students in Jake's class.

"But how does it work?" Dave asked, as if the entire time he had also been there, watching the movie with Jake.

"I don't know," Jake answered, frowning, reviewing his note pad, a nice pair of glasses materializing now in front of his eyes. He took them off with his right hand, still reading from his notes. "Why do you want to know?" he absently asked.

Isabel watched with interest as Jake's Dave just shrugged. "Why not?" she watched with even more interest Jake's exasperated sigh.

"Of course you would say that…" he half mumbled, half said out loud. "Is there ever an answer that does not involve a question from you?" Jake asked yet again, this time making Dave smile. "Is there?" he simply answered.

Annoyed, he turned to look at Isabel. "Why do you think he wants to know?" he almost desperately asked her. Jake's sudden awareness of her presence almost made her lose the dream altogether and wake herself up. But she stilled herself in place. Why wouldn't Jake know what Dave was after? Or was this just a random thought?

"He wants to use us," Isabel answered him, making Jake turn to look at Dave with suspicious eyes. "Like the government would have tried to use us," she added, anxiously waiting for Jake's subconscious answer to that.

"He wouldn't dare…" Jake said above a whisper, still staring at Dave, who innocently stared back at him. Dave looked younger though, maybe around his early 20's she guessed.

"What if Dave's working for the government, then? That's why he would want to know…" Isabel probed again. _Come on Jake, give me something really useful here._

Jake stared at her for a whole minute in silence, as if he were paralyzed by her question. _It has never crossed his mind_, Isabel thought, and then… he just burst out laughing. It was such a heartfelt laugh, the kind that was contagious, that Isabel felt herself smiling a little despite the apprehension she was feeling. He laughed so openly, with such feeling, that it seemed to Isabel that he would just break and fall into pieces. After all, this _was_ a dream.

"The day Dave works for this government you can be sure it is _not_ Dave. He'd rather die than to work for them again." Jake said, putting his glasses back, still shaking his head while faintly smiling. Dave had disappeared.

"Again? What do you mean 'again'?" Isabel fearfully asked now. Jake looked up from his note pad and stared at her as if he couldn't figure out why she didn't understand.

"Because they used us," he answered her, and he started to walk toward the door, as if the class had been dismissed.

"So, he's afraid of them?" Isabel questioned as she stood up from her seat in the fifth row. _Used? What does he mean 'used'?_ How many interpretations could that sole sentence have?

Jake stopped in his tracks, turning to look at her with a slight mischievous smile on his lips. The dream changed, the walls disappeared, the bright sky impossibly blue above them. All around sounds of laughter and voices talking animatedly filled the air. It disoriented Isabel how fast the dream went from one place to the next, but a second later she knew what this new place was: They were in a Fair.

"You want to know what Dave is afraid of? Well, behold Dave's worst nightmare." Gigantic, almost colossal, a Roller Coaster could be seen in the distance. Dark, shadowy, and very menacing, it stood at the end of all games.

"He's afraid of Roller Coasters?" Isabel asked, frowning and a little bit disappointed. This was _not_ what she had had in mind when she had asked if Dave was afraid…

"Oh, but not just of _any_ Roller Coaster, though all could do the trick. This one is the first we ever rode." Isabel turned to look at him, and was taken aback when she realized how young Jake looked now, not even older than herself.

"I tell you," this younger Jake continued, "I've never seen anyone getting down that green. In fact, I don't even think that was green anymore, that shade… Even to this day, he'll pale at the mere thought of it. His perfect memory retains all the details and feelings of the one minute twenty one seconds the whole ride lasted." Jake smiled, a malicious smile. "And I make a point of reminding him of that every once in a while."

In the sparkling color of the dream, Isabel stared at the monstrous Roller Coaster in the distance. They had been there when they had been kids, Isabel realized as Jake balanced himself on tiptoes, up and down, staring at the roller coaster, that contagious grin on his face. He certainly looked as if he was enjoying the prospect of getting Dave into one of those.

But the scenery changed again, suddenly walls materializing, the place becoming familiar. They were at Jake's office, and when she looked back at Jake, he was his actual age again.

"So tell me Isabel, is this really you or am I… just dreaming? I can't figure it out… Can all of you be in here right now?"

Isabel's eyes went round with surprise and apprehension as her heartbeat raced in her chest. The dream changed yet again, though this time the place remained. What had changed was that all three of them were there, sitting on Jake's couch, 3 unopened Cherry Coke cans over the table. And gosh, did they really look like that? So distant, and resigned and, well, so hopeless?

_This is how Jake perceives us_, Isabel thought for a second, knowing full well that perception tended to be hugely exaggerated in dreams. She wasn't sure of what to do right then, though. Jake frowned, as if he wasn't sure either what was supposed to happen next. Still, every second she stayed in Jake's mind was becoming more and more dangerous. She had to disappear, but to do so now would only lead to confirming Jake's suspicions.

"Was it you in Ray's dream as well?" Jake continued, pacing in front of the three dream versions of Max, Isabel and Michael, and the real Isabel herself, "have you been in Dave's dreams too?"

_So Dave does sleep,_ Isabel vaguely thought as she was carefully retreating back. _Just get out of here nice and easy_, she coached herself. Jake seemed totally engrossed in his own thoughts now, so chances were he would dismiss her visit as part of a weird dream. He stopped once again and turned to look at her, thoughtful.

"Be careful," he said, serious now. "You might not like what Dave dreams about."

One last time the dream changed: No walls, no people, no light. No nothing. Everything disappeared almost as if she were being dragged into a bottomless pit. It was such darkness and coldness as she had never encountered before, be it awake or asleep.

Isabel woke up, the feeling of coldness very real in her whole body. What the hell had that been about? She hugged herself as she stared at no point in particular on her bed. What exactly did Jake think Dave dreamed about to begin with? She held her breath for a second. Suddenly, she wasn't so eager to get into Dave's mind at all.

* * *

The breeze gently blew through her hair, the sun slowly sank in the horizon, and all was perfectly well with the world as Liz contemplated the scene sitting on a hill. It all felt so right, so good.

_If this is a dream_, Liz thought,_ I don't want it to end._

She smiled to herself at the notion of being aware it was a dream, and then let it go. Somewhere, she could feel Max, very near her. Her smile grew broader. This was the perfect place to be with Max. She didn't know why, but it felt as if she and Max hadn't seen each other in days, and her anxiousness to see her husband was growing sky high. _Where are you, Max?_ she thought, tearing her gaze from the sunset to turn and look around.

It took her a moment to see him, but certainly enough, there he was, watching something on the ground some thirty feet away, his back to her. She called him, but it seemed like her voice wasn't strong enough. She frowned. What was Max looking at? He was missing the sunset!

She stood up to go to him, and reached down to button up her coat. She slightly wondered why she was wearing a coat to begin with since it was such a warm afternoon, but it all somehow made sense. She needed a coat, so she was wearing one.

"Max! What are you looking at?" she called to him again. He finally turned around with a slight smile, now holding inside his hands whatever he had been staring at. Yet she knew that smile. He was up to something, trying to surprise her. She smiled back, trying to see what Max was attempting to hide from her.

She walked to him, but for some reason, she never seemed to be getting any nearer. The gentle breeze started to get stronger, her hair started to fly in every direction. _That's why I need the coat_, she absently thought, thinking about the weather change as she kept walking towards Max. Why wasn't Max wearing one then?

He suddenly frowned, and then he sneezed, making Liz think that the drop in the temperature had somehow triggered an allergy to cold, like her Mom used to have. But that was ridiculous, Max wasn't allergic to anything. Not that her husband didn't sneeze, because he did, but it was a weird idea she had suddenly got.

Max frowned deeper, and sneezed again, his hands opening, white petals escaping in the wind, a worried expression on his face. Liz let go a tentative smile, frowning a little herself. _You can't catch a cold, silly,_ she thought, but the wind was rapidly changing. Dark, gray clouds covered the sky, yet everything remained orange, as if the sunset light was still there. It all then turned to red, a dark, menacing red, and Max fixed his eyes to her.

_Something is seriously wrong, _she thought, now trying to run to him.

"_Liz…"_ she heard, though he hadn't moved from where he was standing, he hadn't seemed to say a word. _"Liz," _the word again echoed, this time in the entire place. _I'm coming!_ She frantically thought as she tried to move faster.

"Liz, wake up!"

This time the voice sounded loud and clear in her ear, startling her into wakefulness. Max's warm amber eyes looked at her a little worried, and a little relieved. "You seemed to be having a bad dream," he soothingly said, caressing her shoulder as he stared down at her. She blinked a couple of times trying to clear the fog from her mind.

"Did you sneeze?" she absently said after a couple of seconds had passed. Max's eyebrows arched, "No, I don't think so," he answered slowly.

"I think I was dreaming about you sneezing…" she said, frowning, the details of her dream getting lost in the depths of her mind, though she had a nagging feeling that there was something important about it. She sat up, making Max sit up by her side as well. "You've never gotten a cold, have you?" she asked with uncertainty, as if she didn't already know the answer to that.

"Not as far as I can remember, no," he said, and as Liz looked at him closer –as if to reassure herself he wasn't getting a cold now- she noticed that he still looked very tired. _Guess I wasn't the only one having trouble sleeping._ And just as she was about to say something about it to Max, her eyes caught the hour on the alarm clock.

"OH MY GOD, IT'S SO LATE!" she all but jumped out of the bed, startling Max out of his skin, and practically running to the bathroom.

It was 5:46 a.m. on Maria's birthday after all. Things had to be made, errands to be run, surprises to be prepared, and she was already late. And with that, all traces of her dream vanished to the back of her mind, only to sometimes be vaguely recalled, until years later, when everything in it would make perfect sense.

* * *

"You look tired, Ray," Dave said with a stern look as Ray was sitting in front of him. Had Dave known, he would have found it amusing that others had used that same phrase the night before.

"The security systems are almost all in place," Ray explained, moving his head from side to side to sooth the muscles in his neck. "Once that's over, I'll get to sleep more…"

Dave regarded him from his seat. Since Ray had arrived ten minutes before to his office, he had only talked about the new systems and nothing about the kids. He glimpsed his watch, 5:57 a.m., so he still had one hour –and two minutes, 36 seconds- before Maria DeLuca showed at his office. "So, everything okay with the kids?" Dave finally asked. He was expecting a full report of yesterday's events, and one hour was usually what it took Ray to talk about that.

"I'm so not looking forward to dealing with Michael this morning," Ray half muttered as he sat straighter in his seat, rubbing his eyes a little. Ray was certainly not a morning person, and neither was Dave, but since it was actually past midday for him, he had no problem at all.

"Well, as far as I know, he accepted what I proposed; though Isabel did make me include all of them in the original plan... But anyway, Michael shouldn't be in your way this morning. In about two hours or so, actually, he has to go to the kitchen to see that the birthday cake and lunch are ready."

Ray's eyes snapped open as Dave's words registered.

"Isn't it Danielle's turn in the kitchen today?" Ray asked, confusion written on his face.

"Yeah… That was the idea…" Dave said, frowning. If anyone on the entire planet could be called a Cook, it would be her. That woman was just gifted at making the most amazing meals. In fact, "meal" was such a poor word to describe such incredible tastes.

"You sent _Michael_? To _Danielle_?" Ray slowly inquired, disbelief now all over his features. It was Dave's turn to let the words sink. Oh right, there was a reason this was not such a good idea… "You sent Michael "Pissed Off" Guerin to that… that… _witch?_" All of the sudden it dawned on Dave why Ray's worries were not an exaggeration. Danielle certainly had a temper… a very bad temper… And Michael…

"Oh, damn…" they both said at the same time.

_TBC…_

* * *

Author's Note: Special thanks to **xmag** and **RoswieGoof**, who both gave me ideas for the last Dave-Ray entry of this chapter! And to **KathyW** for her legal advice ;) Thank you girls! Talking to you is always a blast!


	27. White Memories

Thank you for coming back to read!! We are now entering Maria's Interview :D Though, as usual, a lot is going on besides the interview itself. This was a very interesting chapter to write, that's for sure, so I hope you guys find it endearing as well.

Thanks to my reviewers!! You guys keep me sharp!! O.O!!

Special thanks go to **Magali** for reading and finding that Maria's birthday was, indeed, the 19th, not the 20th. Thanks girl!!

* * *

**XXVII**

**White Memories**

She was late.

Maria almost wanted to break into a run and skid across the floor. And she _almost_ did. She somberly thought that one day she would laugh about this, but that did nothing to improve her dark humor. This was _not_ how she had envisioned starting this day, and it was even further from what she had envisioned for her 19th birthday.

As she finally reached the elevator, she closed her eyes wishing she could have some cypress oil and a way of making every single clock in this place read 26 minutes earlier. She was _so _late.

It all had started to go downhill from the minute she had stepped out of Liz's apartment to meet with Michael's somehow guilty eyes the night before. And the guilty part was getting old. She had resigned herself to be here, _with_ him, so why the heck was she feeling guilty that he felt guilty about her being here? And she knew the fact that it was her birthday just complicated matters ten times worse.

As the elevator doors opened after an eternity of waiting, she muttered a curse or two with Dave's name at the end of those sentences. Couldn't he have scheduled her interview any other day? Frankly, she didn't mind, but it seemed the other five did. And they were all tense and sharing all these looks… Almost trying to whisper behind her back. So, okay, they were worried, but gees, it was just a stupid interview.

The elevator doors closed. _Yeah, just a stupid interview…_

Though she had pretty much rehearsed everything with Liz while baking her cake, when Michael insisted on spending the night at her apartment, she had automatically gone into ranting mode. She had been nervous, after all, and having Michael to corroborate things had seemed like a good idea.

Right… _Right…_

He was frustrated, irritated, annoyed and was being super-extra-over-protective of her by the time she was in the middle of it. He just didn't want her to go, plain and simple, because he didn't trust Dave. So she had had to remind Michael that she had been able to deal with a lot of crap over the four years of their relationship, so she was going to deal with this too, and his not being supportive was really annoying her as well.

Michael had scowled.

By 11:30 p.m. she was still mentally going over things as now she was not talking to Michael at all. He had, after all, pissed _her _off. And the last thing she needed right then was to suffer Michael's silent fury over the whole situation. She had been right when she had first thought Michael the last person to be with in a crisis, especially a crisis that required verbal support.

He had kissed her "happy birthday" at midnight, but no words had been exchanged. It was all in the vibes, and though she silently thanked him for trying to calm her down –and it had calmed her down somehow- she still didn't need all this nervous energy around her in the form of Michael Guerin pacing and pacing around. After all, it wasn't all that big of an apartment to have both of them pacing. And God, she had needed to pace.

By 2:10 a.m. she had finally fallen asleep on her couch. She wasn't really sure what she had been dreaming, which was for the best since she didn't think her dreams had been good ones, and she had the fortune to sleep through the early hours of the day without jerking around or abruptly waking up. Then the alarm had gone off. The alarm that was in her room. The one that Michael had pretty much fried when it went off while he kept sleeping in her bed –after all, she had refused Michael's company on the couch because he had been sending such negative vibes, and he had equally refused to leave her apartment.

When she woke up, it was 6:48 a.m.

The knocks on the door had awakened her. Max, Liz, Isabel and Kyle were all outside wondering why it was taking Michael and Maria so long to come out and, not wanting to intrude, they had decided to knock. By the time Michael sleepily opened the door, six minutes later, she was already in the shower.

By 7:05 a.m. she had barely made it out of her apartment, all five of them worried to some degree about what time it was. She had seen that they had brought her presents –that had made her smile for a second, though she had the nagging feeling there were only four and that the nametag missing was Michael's, but okay- and so they had all congratulated her as they were rushing through the corridor.

Then, they had all but crashed into the closed glass doors that separated the apartments' area from the next area. Simply put, the doors weren't opening. _This is a nightmare,_ Maria had all but shouted right then.

After they all had blinked several times and had started to look at each other for an answer –especially looking at Liz- and right before Maria was going to ask the alien trio what the heck they were waiting for to use their Samantha-Jeannie alien thing to open the damned doors, Liz had finally hit on the answer to their problem.

"_Maria, where's your White Card?"_

God… stupid White Card and stupid door that wouldn't open without the stupid White Card. It all had just plain sucked… And now that the doors of the elevator were opening to the corridor outside Dave's office, Maria thought things still sucked. Of course she had forgotten her White Card at her apartment, and without it no door was going to let her pass. Michael had gone for it then, though she knew it was going to take him forever to find the damned thing.

And it _had_ taken Michael forever to go there and back.

So, as she was now approaching the concealed door, she finally slowed down. Did she remember everything there was to remember? Probably not, but what the hell, she was already there, she was already late, what else could go wrong? She bit her tongue thinking this was the worst thing she could tell herself, because then something worse actually would happen.

Well, at least for all the 17 minutes she had taken to shower, dress and apply make-up, she felt rather comfortable with the result. She had almost expected Liz to tell her yesterday to dress up as a nun and wear no make-up at all. But if she had survived Sheriff Valenti back in the day, she sure could survive Dave right now. After all, it wasn't as if Dave didn't know where Isabel and Max had come from…

She suddenly realized that she was so sick of it all. Sick of being nervous, of worrying about Michael, of waiting to hear some alarm going off because he had done something… well, unexpected. She was really tired of looking over her shoulder and of every word they heard in this place being suspected. Couldn't things just be easy for once? Especially on her birthday?

She closed her eyes and cursed Dave one last time. The guy had messed with their lives in so many ways and on so many levels it wasn't even funny, and for the first time she really resented that he had picked her birthday of all days so she would always know exactly when she had met with him. Oh, and he _better_ not say "happy birthday", she sullenly thought.

So enough was enough. She was going to keep her cool and manage to get through this whole thing unscathed. She was _determined _to do this right. Period. Without another outburst of her mind, she firmly opened the door and purposefully walked into the office.

For all the scenarios that had been playing in her mind since Monday, she had definitely not pictured getting there late, especially not all worked up, so she could only imagine that Dave hadn't been expecting that either. The look on his face told her as much.

He was standing in front of his chair, with one puzzle piece in his right hand, actually bending over his desk to reach a rather far spot where it would certainly fit in later. He looked a bit startled. She noticed then she hadn't knocked and she had entered a bit fast. Blinking for a second, and then composing himself as he stood, he made the universal you-are-late gesture of checking his watch on his left wrist. For some reason, that infuriated her. Yes, she was late, must he remind her of that?

She stopped right beside the chair, glaring at him for looking at his watch, and crossed her arms. He almost imperceptibly arched his right eyebrow, and he almost, almost looked offended. As if she would care...

"Rough start?" Dave finally asked, slightly moving his head to his right, a small knowing smile on his lips.

"Like you would know…" she murmured as he extended his hand in a gesture of "you may sit." She disentangled her arms and sat down just as Dave was about to sit himself.

She focused her attention on the task at hand. After all, here she was, at the dreaded beginning of the conversation. She had tried to figure it all out, day and night, especially as the interview was getting closer. What was Dave going to say? What startling revelation did he have up his sleeve? Was he going to tell her something about her mother? Heck, something about her father? Yeah, like that mattered to her now…

She really didn't have that many skeletons in her closet to begin with. Aside from Michael, of course… And though there certainly were things she would rather leave in the dark about the past four years of her life, nothing this man could tell her could really shock her. Yet as Dave sat, and the silence remained, Maria's anxiousness just kept rising. He looked at her, intently, and still he didn't say a word.

And so, she snapped.

"Okay, spill."

That took Dave aback as he frowned, and for a second, turned to look at no point in particular to her left. "What do you mean?" he slowly asked.

"You know, whatever great-wow revelation you have in store for me." He frowned even deeper. "I know you have something… some detail, some grand hidden secret on the tip of your tongue. So let's get it over with, okay? You've done it to everyone, it's not a big mystery by now," Maria ended, mildly waving her hand in midair. But now, there was recognition in Dave's eyes. He knew exactly what she was talking about.

Maria tensed. A whole minute seemed to go by as Dave slightly narrowed his eyes and took a more comfortable posture on his leather black chair. He regarded her for one more second, his face becoming serious, all joking aside. He was thinking something carefully, and when he finally spoke…

"Max told you what happened to him."

…Time froze.

"He told you in detail."

She forgot everything she was supposed to say and just stared at him. She knew exactly what he was talking about: Max's experience at the hands of the FBI. There was no doubt in her mind about that. But how could Dave _know?_ He hadn't even been around until Max had saved the children at the Phoenix Hospital… roughly six months after all that— all that _crap_ of that summer. So Dave had been lying to them? Because the only two people alive who knew about that were Max and herself; and she was dead certain Max hadn't opened his mouth. Fear crept over her spine and made her hands feel numb. If he knew about this, what else did he know?

"How… how do you know?" Maria asked as she finally found her voice.

"That's not important right now," he answered her in a rather low voice, just above a whisper, "I know part of what happened, but the question is: What exactly do _you _know?"

All of the sudden, she didn't want Dave to keep spilling anymore. And she didn't want to remember the answer to his question either, yet the images played themselves out in her mind.

She and Max had been talking in her room, probably about Liz or Michael or both, each of them trying to find a way to make light of the situation instead of just being miserable. That had been the longest summer of her life, and she bet of Max's life as well.

She had had the radio on, faintly sounding in her room, and that song had come on, that Britney Spears song about how she was stronger than yesterday, and just when she was reaching to turn it off, Max had laughed. A very bitter and longing and all around miserable laugh.

And she caught the irony right there. How did it go? _Stronger than yesterday, now there's nothing but my way_ or something… Turning it off she was going to joke about pop music but she had been unable to do that, because Max had barely been holding himself together, barely getting a grip on his emotions. She had never seen anyone that close to the edge, and yet so unwilling to let go. Standing by her window, he reminded her of Michael.

"Max, are you all right?" she had asked him, full of concern, and Max had just stood there, looking at her but not really seeing her.

It had been three weeks since they had gotten him free, but at that point Maria hadn't known that Max hadn't said a word about what had happened to him at the hands of the FBI Special Unit.

"Max?" She had tentatively asked again, but Max was still somewhere else.

"It was so cold…" he had finally said, barely above a whisper. "It was so cold and so bright and I was so alone…"

And Maria had known, beyond a doubt, what Max was talking about. For an instant she had almost raised her hand to her mouth, but she had thought that it could distract Max, shutting him off, and he truly looked like he needed to talk. So she had reached for his right hand instead, and had slowly but steadily guided him to sit on her bed.

Max still wouldn't see her, though, and his eyes had had a lost look, as if a mist had settled there, a mist that covered this world, and the only things he could see were happening in another time and place.

It had frightened Maria beyond words. She had felt cold all of a sudden, as cold as Max had said he had been. And the chills running through her spine now were a very good reminder of that. She stared at Dave, unwilling to answer him. And he knew it.

"I know their side of the story, Maria," Dave said when she wasn't forthcoming with answers, his tone slightly different, with more emotion, louder, as if it were important to him to make this point. Maybe he was trying to make her talk, she decided, and that made her feel uncomfortable. "I know every Special Unit file there is about you, and your families, and everything they think they have pieced together. I've read the medical files on what was done to Max in less than 24 hours. I've read all the conspiracy theories. I've read alien history for the past fifty years on this planet. And it isn't pretty. What they think they know is dangerous. Especially to you, kids."

"But you already know that's not true!" Maria said, snapping out of her silence, her voice firm and loud.

"I know _their_ truth," he said, in a lower tone. "I know their grand version of how they are defending the Earth against an alien invasion and colonization. That's what Pierce was trying to get out of Max. That was the only truth he was going to accept. And that's all I've been able to find."

"_I couldn't tell them what I didn't know…"_ Max's words echoed in her mind. She shut her eyes and pushed the memory to the back of her thoughts.

"So I'm piecing together your side of the truth," Dave continued, "because otherwise, I won't get the right idea."

_And what happens if you get the _wrong_ idea?_ Maria fearfully wondered as Dave held her gaze. She looked at him intently as well. He was waiting for her to say something. Something she really didn't want to talk about.

"What's the difference now? It's over," Maria said, trying to side-step the subject, "You already know what happened."

He seemed to consider her words for a few seconds, the silence stretching out as time passed by. "It's your version that should matter to you. It certainly won't make any difference if I don't find any other source," he simply said. "I'll only know their side."

_You could always ask Max_, Maria thought, but she already knew it wouldn't work. Max was not exactly the open type about any subject in particular, but this one… this one he had locked up in a dark place long ago, and he had thrown the key into an even darker place. Michael bottled up things his way, but Max's way was even tighter. She sometimes wondered how Max could remain calm when so much had happened to him… to them.

Yet she couldn't deny that Dave had a point. These interviews served to give their side of the story, and he wanted to know. She would even bet that he _needed_ to know, but she couldn't figure out why. So, if it was up to her to expose those bastards that had held Max, or even if she only gained a grain of trust from this man that she could later use to their advantage, then Maria was ready to tell the story. And so she started with what mattered the most about this whole thing:

"He went through hell."

- - - - - - - -

For all the things that had to be done that morning, it had never occurred to Max that he was going to end up exactly in the same place that he had been told –almost yelled at, really- not to return until next Monday. So when he stood in front of Jake's lab door, uneasiness crept at the back of his neck.

Uneasiness that had a lot to do with his dream last night, if he was going to be honest with himself, and the prospect of facing Jake about that was something that he felt he needed to do, but that certainly he didn't _want_ to do. Still, he wasn't there for that matter. He was there because Jake had paged Michael about having a small gift for Maria and wondered if Michael could pick it up.

Except that Michael had his hands full this morning and so Max had offered to retrieve it while Liz went to the Shop for some things she hadn't been able to buy in front of Maria. So circumstances had sort of brought him here, and though he was feeling uncomfortable, he also wondered if now was a good moment to raise certain… _events_ with Jake.

He only had one more day to gather all the information he could before his own interview with Dave, and he wondered if talking to Jake now would give him some insight that he could later use to his advantage. Still, he was also afraid of what he might discover about Jake. In some way, he wanted to trust the man, not only because he truly seemed to care about them, but also because Max needed to trust someone in this place, someone who knew a lot more about what was going on in here than he did himself. It was, Max knew, like the feeling he had gotten from Jim Valenti, back in the days when he had been their worst enemy and he had slowly turned into their best ally.

It was too soon to trust Jake, and Max knew it. The main problem was the position in which Jake was standing now: He was their doctor. The guy with the white lab coat and the stethoscope hanging on his neck that had plagued his dreams all his life. A nightmare that had become true less than three years ago and that now was threatening to become real once again. Jake represented some inner, well-rooted fear in Max's mind, and his subconscious had not wasted time in telling him that just the night before.

The fact that Jake _had_ been part of the scheme to drug them and have him and his family and friends at his mercy for three days did not do wonders on the trust issue, and that was why Max needed to know what had happened. Without those answers, there was no way he was going to be able to trust Jake.

For some reason, it hadn't been too difficult to push all of these questions to the back of his mind when they had first talked about accepting this offer. Whatever had happened had been done and there was nothing he could do about it. They had accepted to being tested anyway, so there was not much point in getting suspicious of what might happen or what had happened in the past. However, even though he had previously been able to dismiss the subject, he now found himself unable to let it go. He also realized that sooner or later, the others would start to think about it as well. It would be better if he already had some answers for them when they began asking. The only problem was, of course, _getting_ those answers.

He shut his eyes tight for a second, feeling the weariness that his almost sleepless night had left on his body. He was really tired this morning, but things had to be done for Maria's birthday, and Max knew that they all needed this time off. Do something different. Worry about something "normal" for a change. Taking a deep breath and then letting it go slowly, Max tried get himself together to knock on that door and talk to Jake.

Voices pulled him out from his indecision as he had been standing in front of Jake's lab-office door for the past three minutes. The voices were male, and they were coming from inside the room; getting closer for all Max could know.

"_But that's the question, isn't it?"_ one of the voices was saying, _"If we are no longer the future, how are we going to change it?"_ Laughter. Jake's laugh, to be precise.

"_I thought that was why you had become a teacher," _Jake answered from the other side of the door, as Max was trying to decide if he should knock or pretend he had just come out here and was _about_ to knock.

"Yeah, well," the unknown voice said, coming clear now that the door was being opened, "I wouldn't really trust half of my students with the future of the world, if you know what I mean." The owner of the voice laughed with the same heartfelt laugh that Jake had, though both men rapidly hushed when they saw Max standing there, a bit startled.

"Oh, Max," Jake said, passing through the initial shock of seeing him there, "This is Doctor Alan Preston. Alan, this is Max. The one I was telling you about," Jake said, with a friendly smile as he introduced the older man. Doctor Preston's gray eyes lit up immediately and he extended a hand to Max. Around sixty years old, with white beard, white hair and some extra pounds, he reminded him of his grandfather from his mother's side.

"I've heard so much about your wife, I can hardly wait," Alan said, a broad smile on his face as he gave Max a firm grip and a near heart attack. _Liz?_ Though he smiled back, his worried eyes met with Jake's for an instant. Jake slightly frowned for a fraction of a second and then understanding dawned on him.

"Alan, Liz has yet to accept," and then, turning to Max, Jake explained, "Alan here is writing a biology book, so he was hoping Liz could assist him with all the background research. You were supposed to meet him this afternoon according to your schedule, but with Maria's birthday we thought it could wait till next week."

"Right," Max said, letting go of Preston's hand. When they had met with Ray that morning at the Gym, he had indeed told them that their meeting at Biology could be rescheduled for next week –earning a slight feigned pout from Liz- and so they had agreed to that. It somehow made him nervous to see two doctors standing in front of him, though, especially after hearing one of them saying "the one I was telling you about". It did make him feel like a test subject or something.

"Well, I really have to go," Alan said, glancing at his wrist watch, "Nice to meet you Max, I'll see you next week then," and with that, he departed through the corridor, leaving Max and Jake staring after him. After a few seconds passed, Max finally returned his look to Jake, who looked back at him.

"Oh right! You're here for the gift," Jake finally said, as it was obvious that he was waiting for Max to tell him what he wanted. "Some days I think I don't lose my head just because it's attached," he joked, gesturing with one hand for Max to enter as he headed for the lab's door.

Max doubted following him for a second. For some reason, he felt way safer out there in the corridor than in there in Jake's office. Pushing that fear to the back of his mind, Max entered the room, though he couldn't stop his muscles from tensing up at being there. Had it been between these walls where Jake had taken them during those three days? Max tried to shake the feeling off as Jake continued to talk to him from the inner room, the one with the white screen where they had played the car game and talked the following two days.

"Alan is a great guy," Max barely discerned the muffled words floating in from the next room, "I'm sure Liz is going to get along with him just fine," Jake was saying as Max was now standing in the door frame, the dark-red haired man sitting on the couch, bent over the table. The car game was showing the "winners" screen, a tell tale that Jake and Alan had been playing, while some brown paper and tape were occupying half of the small table in the middle. Jake was busy searching for something under the paper –probably the scissors- as Max saw a red book on one of the couches.

"If any of you want to get into biology," Jake said as he finally found the scissors and turned to look at him, "he'll be more than happy to teach. He has a knack for that," Jake finished with a smile.

Max just stood there, his mind racing through the things that could have happened in this room. His eyes went to the white door that led to the labs. The same door that had earned them Jake's fury when Max had shattered it two days before. The same door they had never crossed. His attention finally returned to Jake, and he felt himself tense even more. Jake's smile faltered a little as he turned to fetch the red book and started to wrap it with the brown paper.

"Does he know? About us?" Max finally managed to ask as he recalled Jake's earlier words to Alan about "the one I told you about."

"No," Jake said, fighting with the tape to strap one end of the wrapped book, "but he'll help us in time. He was researching until recently about how cells regenerate. How the body heals."

Max's heartbeat doubled in a second as his breath was caught in his lungs, and he momentarily wondered if the sensors were picking up his vital signs even if he was standing in the doorframe. His mouth opened for a couple of seconds trying to say something about what he had said on Tuesday morning: He was _not_ going to heal. But Jake was still wrapping the book, his back to Max, so the doctor didn't notice.

"So," Jake continued, "when Dave showed him part of the research on how your cells regenerate, Alan couldn't resist coming aboard. Though, he doesn't know where the… source material is coming from, of course," Jake said, turning for a moment with a slight smile to Max.

"My cells?" Max asked, slightly narrowing his eyes.

"You're probably not aware of it," Jake said as he now flipped over the wrapped book and was in the process of pasting a sticker, "but your body heals at an incredible rate leaving almost no scars. Even when you're not consciously healing it, that is. The same happens with Isabel's and Michael's cells. Your cells are not that different from ours when it comes to certain processes, so there's something really valuable to get from this study. A lot can be done to help people."

"He has our cells then," Max said, frowning.

"No, just the part of the research. It would be too obvious they are part alien cells, and Alan is not yet ready to survive the heart attack that impression is going to give him," Jake said, smiling as he was writing on the sticker on Maria's present. "But if you start healing…" Jake said as he wrote a final period on the tag, "then his expertise will be really useful."

"But I won't heal," Max said with a firm voice. It didn't matter how much they could learn from this, because at the end of the day, it was Liz's, Kyle's and his life –at the least- that were going to end up under a microscope. He couldn't risk it. "You already know that. I don't want to heal ever again."

"Oh, but you _did_ heal after the Meta Chem incident," Jake said, not accusingly, just knowingly. After all, Max had told him about his near death experience –if it could be called that- and had used it as his main reason to refuse to heal in the lab. That would also imply that, after said event, Max hadn't healed anyone at all. He didn't know where Jake was going, so he kept quiet. "You healed Michael when you were escaping the FBI's ambush in Colorado, didn't you?" Jake asked without looking at him while he started to roll the remaining brown paper.

"How…" Max involuntarily started, surprised at the accuracy of Jake's words, but he didn't continue. Though that was pretty much all the confirmation Jake would need, anyway.

"How do I know?" Jake finished for him, now turning to look at Max's eyes, "Because Dave has an FBI agent working for him, who always kept Ray alert to what the moves on you were. So Dave knew Michael was shot by one of the agents, and that there was a blood trail that conveniently disappeared in the woods you entered that night when you were escaping. He put two and two together… You healed Michael, didn't you?" Jake repeated the question. Max kept quiet this time, but he turned his eyes away from Jake's. He didn't know how to deny this one.

"I don't know what is it that you are so afraid of," Jake said, in a calm tone, "because you obviously know that you are going to keep healing as long as it is necessary… so the least you should know is how to heal without killing yourself."

An uncomfortable silence set between them for a couple of seconds. "It's still up to you, you know," Jake said, breaking eye contact and fishing for the remote control to the screen from the table. "You should trust me enough by now to know I would never force you into it," Jake said with a somewhat rough voice, turning off the video game.

_Well, trust is not that easily earned,_ Max silently thought as he was still standing in the door frame. He looked at the now wrapped book and wondered if he should enter and pick it up. Jake sat and turned to look at him.

"What did Dave say this time?" Jake asked, a tired tone in his voice now. Max frowned.

"What do you mean?" he asked, concerned.

"Something is troubling you. You look just as bad as you did on Monday when you three first came here, and I don't mean that as a compliment. That leads me to the conclusion that something happened between Wednesday and today, because you didn't look like this when you left this place two days ago. Hence, I blame Dave." Jake ended, with a slight smile at his last remark.

"He didn't say anything," Max said quietly, turning his eyes to the floor for a second. He felt uncomfortable in Jake's presence all over again, especially since Jake wouldn't take his eyes off him. "But I've been wondering…" Max trailed off. Was there any way he could say this right? Jake looked at him expectantly, "about the… missing time…" Max left the words hanging in the air, not sure if he should elaborate about what he had just said.

Jake didn't seem to need any explanation anyway, since realization hit him pretty much a second after Max had trailed off. He got a tired look to match his tired voice when he answered Max.

"I was wondering when you were going to bring that one up, to tell you the truth," Jake said, pausing as if an idea had suddenly occurred to him, his eyes turning to the table. "Have you been walking in my dreams, Mr. Evans?" Jake asked, rubbing his left hand on his neck, a small, somewhat knowing smile on his face. Max felt himself going cold inside. Jake _knew_, or at the very least _suspected_. "I've been wondering what exactly I was thinking myself," Jake continued, meeting Max's eyes. "What is making you think about this?"

_A dream_, Max thought as he rushed through his mind for some other explanation, pushing his worries of what he should do about Jake's hint of Isabel's dreamwalking ability to the back of his mind.

Technically speaking, he really didn't need to elaborate on why he was thinking about this. It was, after all, in his right to want to know what had been done to him during that period of time, but all the same he felt compelled to give an answer. He definitely needed to stir the conversation away from Jake's suspicions anyway.

"You seem to know… a lot about us… So you must have… gathered a lot of information while we… were…"

Jake let go a slow sigh as Max was attempting to finish his sentence. Jake knew what he was talking about, and so Max didn't continue.

"About 85 of what I know about you comes from other sources," Jake said, gesturing with a hand for Max to come in. It felt odd, as if he was going to get a lecture or something. His heart beating in his ears, Max finally came into the room and took a seat in front of Jake, with the table in the middle of them both.

"MetaChem and the team that worked for them from one of Dave's companies did a lot of very useful research on whatever they could get from Michael and from Liz's uniform," Jake continued, putting the remote control on the table. He looked at Max then, almost as if measuring him. His eyes then moved to Maria's present, but they lost their focus. Max frowned. It was unlike Jake to not be direct, and for some reason, the fact that he was not pacing also made Max feel like something was wrong.

"That's all?" Max asked, an unsettling feeling crawling over his spine. His mind raced through the question of how much exactly Jake did know about them, and that, if this was all, then Max was going to have to re-ask his question about what had happened during that "missing time", as he had called it before.

"No…" Jake said, trailing off, his posture becoming tense and his eyes meeting Max's again. Max tensed as well in response. "I know that Dave told you he hadn't known about the Special Unit until May of 2001." Jake quietly said, though the words seemed to echo in the whole room as Max realized where exactly Jake was going. Of course _they_ were a source, he thought as he spoke with a strange calm.

"He said he had found an Agent that was willing to talk for the right price," Max recalled, and his own words made his chest suddenly feel cold with apprehension.

"Yes, that's right. What he didn't tell you was that that Agent, Agent Wilson, was one of the Medical Technicians that tested you back in May of 2000."

Max froze in place, which was an interesting detail if he factored in how his heart had sped up. Fear crept in the bottom of his mind, fear at remembering what had happened to him one May years ago.

"What?" he faintly asked, as if somehow he had heard wrong.

"He was the Head of the Medical Team assigned to study you to be exact," Jake stated with a clarity that made sure Max understood what he was saying. Yet in the fog that was threatening to invade his mind, Max let go a small, ironic laugh.

"Pierce didn't want to _study_ me…" he said, getting a grip on himself, trying to clear his mind and stay in the here and now.

Jake took a deep breath, and for a second he turned to look at the white screen, thoughtful. "There was a lot happening around you that I'm sure you never knew," he said, returning his eyes to Max. "How… much… do you remember?" Jake slowly asked, as if he was unsure if Max wanted him to tell him this part of the story or not.

Truthfully, Max would rather leave the entire experience buried deep down in his subconscious mind, and frankly, this was not what he had wanted an answer for, but Jake's words about things that had happened that Max hadn't been aware of had a strange tantalizing effect. What had the Special Unit learned from him? They knew so much about them… and their powers. How much did Jake know then? What if they couldn't really keep the level of their powers to themselves?

Jake's words were still hanging in the air, and as usual around him, Max felt the need to answer him.

"I'm not sure…" Max said after a moment of hesitation. How far did he really want to go with this? "I don't really think much about… it. And when I do, images… memories come distorted, without an order, or following logic…" Max stood up, without knowing really why, except that he just couldn't remain seated, rooted in place. Jake followed him with his gaze.

"The images come one after the other," Max continued, "like a movie that has been cut, so I can only see pieces, moments… and the in betweens are just lost to me…" he walked to the white screen and stood there, absently wondering what Jake's special lens would show now. He suddenly felt self conscious –_way_ self conscious- about where he was, what he was saying, and to whom he was saying it to. It didn't matter; Max had been vague enough to let Jake fill in the gaps, and tell him whatever information it was that Jake knew without having to go into detail about the scarce memories he actually could recall with perfect definition.

"He was desperate…" Jake said, cutting into Max's thoughts, Jake's eyes now looking at the ceiling as if recalling a long lost poem.

"Who?" Max asked, frowning at Jake's own vagueness.

"Pierce." Jake finally answered him. Somehow, Max couldn't really picture Pierce desperate once Max had been in his hands. "He needed information and he needed it fast. You're right, he didn't want to study you, because that was never part of his jurisdiction," Jake's words collided against Max's logic.

"But he answered to no one," Max argued, "Topolsky told Liz so. He could have done whatever he wanted." Max crossed his arms as he stood still in front of the white screen, a mix of disbelief and fear in his face. What was Jake playing at?

"For all Dave could find out, Pierce could do whatever he wanted in order to hunt down aliens," Jake conceded, "but few that knew about the Unit thought he was ever going to succeed."

"They didn't believe aliens exist?" Max asked, confused. Pierce had had a lot of power to do as he pleased, and that kind of power didn't come about if people already in power didn't believe him in the first place.

"Some didn't, but most knew better. Yet you have to take in consideration that the last alien the Army had had escaped in 1950," Max flashed for an instant on Kal and Nasedo. What had the one captured had to endure during those three years? Max's heart skipped a beat at that. He really didn't want to think about that, and so he kept his attention on the story. Things weren't exactly adding up with what Max knew, and he wanted to know why. "The chances that Pierce was going to succeed in trapping yet another one after 50 years were slim," Jake continued, "But once he did, things changed."

"Changed?"

"Too many of those few who knew about the Unit suddenly developed an interest in you," Jake said, a slight, sad smile on his face. "For many reasons, Max, you are far more valuable alive than dead, though news of your capture took a couple of hours to reach 'unwanted' ears."

_Others?_ There had been _more _people like Pierce, waiting in line? Max couldn't help but wonder what his fate would have been had Nasedo and company not acted in time. He suddenly felt as if he had been on the outside, observing all these invisible players coming to get him. He stared at Jake, unsure of how to react to this news.

"Pierce knew that having a live alien in custody placed too many eyes on his Unit. If he wanted to remain in control he needed information, and he needed it before some high ranking general sent someone with a white lab coat to take you and what you knew out of his reach," Jake continued, though his words made Max feel alone. Isolated. How many people had been after him? And how many of them were still out there?

"But I didn't know anything," Max almost absently said. There had been no information he could have really given Pierce, or anyone for that matter.

"Pierce thought you were one of the two crash survivors," Jake explained, as if Max didn't already know all of this. Of course Pierce had thought that. There _had_ been two of him at the carnival. Pierce just had gotten the "wrong" one.

"But I wasn't the alien he thought I was…" Max said, his mind momentarily trapped into an interrogatory that he was never going to be able to answer. He suddenly got tired of standing in front of the white screen. He felt himself tense. At the back of his mind, he carefully kept all of this out of his connection with Liz. She probably knew something was going on, but that was all Max wanted her to know.

"Exactly. That's where this Agent Wilson comes into the picture. He got puzzled and –according to his version of the story- he warned Pierce that you were something… _other._ Wilson kept telling him that you were a 'miracle of science'. And by all means, Pierce had no permission to endanger your life." Somehow, Jake's tone didn't seem to really believe what this Agent Wilson had said.

"Pierce didn't care," Max said with an annoyed tone, angry at how helpless he suddenly felt. A million things were going through his mind right at that moment, making him feel like he couldn't stand anymore, so he went back to sitting again.

"Whether he cared or not," Jake answered Max's statement, as if there had been any doubt that Pierce had cared, "he needed the information fast. That's why he ordered you drugged first."

Max's stomach involuntarily contracted. For an instant, his mind played tricks on him and he felt as if the whole room had swayed. If he had been standing, he had no doubt he would have lost his balance for a second. He shook the feeling off. He wasn't drugged now, and he convinced his mind of that as well. Distorted memories tried to intrude into his thoughts, and only half succeeded.

"But things backfired," Jake continued, the story getting more intense for Max as Jake continued talking about things he really didn't want to recall.

"How?" he asked all the same, the need to know who else had been after him, and how much did his enemies know strong enough to keep the subject.

"Biochemistry," Jake simply stated, with a small smile. "Remember how alcohol affected you once?" Though technically Max didn't really remember, he knew what Jake was talking about. He slightly nodded.

"A similar reaction happened when they drugged you. Your metabolism absorbed it too fast too soon. The technicians thought they had over dosed you, which they probably did."

_Like I would know_, Max thought. All he really remembered of that was Isabel talking to him, and that was a blur at best. He had been so damned scared his heart was racing even now. He fixed his eyes on some point on the floor, so he could calm down faster. Jake didn't continue, so Max looked up at him after a few seconds had gone by, and when he did so he saw Jake's indecision written on his face.

"You don't need to listen to this now, Max…" Jake started.

"But I want to know," Max said with a confidence he was far from feeling. "You know about us. They knew about us. I want to know too, even if it means listening to… this," he quietly ended.

Jake looked at him as if he were measuring him again, and it made Max wonder if things had been worse than he remembered. Because if they were, then he didn't think he actually wanted to listen anymore.

"'They were getting nowhere', Wilson said, so Pierce was furious. They were afraid they were going to make a mistake with you, so the technicians were relieved when Pierce ordered them to stop with the drugs."

Silence. Jake stood up, his right hand going to the bridge of his nose. It made Max wonder for the tenth time if Jake had worn –or still wore- glasses.

"The memories are hazy…" Max said, trying to keep Jake on the subject. Trying to make himself stay on the subject as well. For some reason, be it information or closure or whatever, Max needed this out. "But I certainly still felt drugged afterwards."

"Warm?" Jake asked. Just as Max had done a few minutes before, Jake walked to the screen, partially giving Max his back. Max frowned at the question. Jake must have sensed that, because he asked it again, "Do you remember feeling warm?"

"I don't know… Maybe… I couldn't—I couldn't keep that shirt on. I had to take it off and fast." Max thought for a moment. He remembered needing it off, but he couldn't really remember why.

"Your body temperature went from 98 to 107 in less than ten minutes," Jake finally said, turning to look at Max. "They thought that your body had some sort of allergic response, which I doubt is right, and they… panicked. By human standards you should have been dead, or at least agonizing." Jake paused, his eyes moving to some point on the wall past Max, as if he were recalling something particularly difficult. "They had to lower your temperature and they had to do it fast," Jake said, now looking at him.

Max didn't remember any of that, but it would explain why he had needed the shirt off. He thought for a second he couldn't recall either how his temperature had been lowered, but an image appeared so clear in his mind it made him catch his breath. How else did people deal with such high temperatures? He felt himself going cold to the bottom of his soul as Jake's words sank in.

"The ice bath," he said just above a whisper, his hands protectively going to his side, subconsciously bracing himself for the cold.

"I might have done the same," Jake softly added, "They couldn't risk it..."

Max had tried to fight them, he did remember that. He suddenly felt trapped in here too, angrier now than ever for what had been done to him, frustration surfacing in the face of one who had also trapped and drugged him barely more than a week ago.

"You might have thrown me in there?" Max said, accusingly looking at Jake while his mind tried to piece together the disjointed images he was recalling, "Without a word, and kept me in there till I—I—" Max closed his eyes. He couldn't remember when it had ended or what had happened immediately afterwards. Until he drowned? Was that what he was trying to say? As Max's eyebrows frowned in confusion at not being able to remember, Jake went back to him, standing some three feet away.

"No," he simply said, making Max's eyes snapp open. "Of course not, but it worked. They got what they wanted. You never knew it was for your health, and it looked like part of Pierce's techniques to get you to talk."

Max stared at Jake for a whole minute, the calm tone of his voice scarcely making him feel any less upset. But… Max really wasn't seeing him. He tried to remember if Pierce had been there or not, if he had been questioned time and again, but all he could really recall was one single thought: _Air_. His body had felt as if thousands of needles had been mercilessly stabbing him. It hadn't been even cold what he had felt, just a primal instinct to keep fighting to be alive. For air. Fighting against the hands that had been holding him down. Then it all had gone blank. It all just had turned white. Shapeless, soundless, white.

"He wanted to kill me," Max whispered, turning his eyes at anything but Jake. In the white fog of his memories, Pierce's voice echoed again and again, asking for answers that Max could not give.

"That he did," Jake said, sitting in front of Max again, making Max's attention return to him. "For about 28 seconds he actually did," Jake stated.

"What?" Max asked, as if he had been shaken awake. He felt dread racing at the back of his mind and he wasn't entirely sure if he was blocking that from Liz.

"Your heart stopped for 28 seconds," Jake explained.

"Because of the ice bath?" Max asked, trying to keep up with Jake's words. His heart had stopped? It felt as if it took Jake longer to answer him this time. Until that moment, he realized that he had been hugging himself, steeling himself for the next piece of information. He didn't let himself go though.

"No," Jake finally said. He slightly inhaled, as if stilling himself for what was next, which made Max fear the answer more.

"In simple terms, you are hypersensitive to electrical impulses," Jake started to say, but the last two words sent Max's mind to another place and time. He heard echoes of screams. His heart beat at double speed at the memory of the electricity running through his body. His chest muscles involuntary contracted. His memories became white again, white with pain.

"…Your synapses conduct electric impulses way above the average," Jake continued, but Max barely registered this, unconsciously bracing himself. Part of him was back there, with Pierce heightening the voltage, and the other was telling himself he wasn't there.

"… It might have to do with the energy shield you were telling me about on Tuesday," Jake kept explaining, as he now had stood and had started pacing, "so it would be easier for you to concentrate your energy in one place. That would require a clear path through your entire body which could explain your need of having developed such highly attuned synapses… Now that would have the side effect of making your body hypersensitive to external electrical sources… But I'm just theorizing here. Without further tests—" Max's eyes sharply snapped as Jake came to a halt. That brought him back to the –relative- safety of the present, and focused on what was important. And right then it was to finish this talk without getting sucked into his white memories, into a white abyss.

"He got the voltage so high your heart stopped," Jake said, sitting again, almost defeated. As if he had wanted to keep this to himself. "Had you been a human prisoner, without a heart condition, you should have been able to take it. Except that once again they made the mistake of thinking your alien biology would be stronger. Wilson and the other technicians _really_ panicked then, and Pierce had no choice but to stop."

Memories of a cold floor invaded Max's mind. There was no real time frame between the searing pain of electricity and waking up on the floor. As rationally and serenely as he was trying to retake the meaning and order of his memories, there was just no reference for him.

"He didn't stop," Max could barely say as his mind raced through the next part, taking his eyes off Jake. The doctor's words were replaying in his mind now, but Max didn't want to dwell on the thought that Pierce _had_ technically killed him. It made him go cold inside, colder than before, knowing what he knew about death…

"But he couldn't have killed me," Max suddenly said, denying Jake's last statement, "because Michael didn't get the Seal." Max leveled his eyes with Jake's just in time to see Jake frowning.

"What Seal?"

* * *

_TBC…_

AN: Thank you so much to **cinthialovesmym** for correcting me with the song's lyrics :P and to **KathyW** for pointing out the Ginni-Jeannie thing… sighs…


	28. On Second Thought

Thanks for coming back to read!!!

This is the last chapter I have written and betaed so... don't worry if you don't see me for a while... as in, a month while or such... I'm writing, and my betas are editing, but I really take a long time to come up with such long chapters...

If you happen to find yourself with time to spare and want to read some great works, you can check out my profile for links to stories I really love.

Special thanks go to **behrinthecity** for betaing this part along with my usual betas, **Kathy W, RoswieGoof,** and **thetvgeneral**. THANK YOU GIRLS!!!

And thank you so much to my reviewers!! You make my day everytime you leave a message ;)

* * *

**  
XXVIII **

**On Second Thought…**

The plan was simple.

Or so Michael Guerin had been told. And because Michael Guerin seldom believed things were simple, when Dave had first told him the two things that constituted his idea of Maria's gift, Michael had proceeded to examine why exactly two simple things couldn't really be that simple.

After considering it for a full night, he had concluded it really wasn't all that tricky. It wasn't simple-simple, but it looked like something that could work without too much effort on his part. Especially when he had known Friday morning he was going to be nervous –though he would never admit that out loud to a living soul- and he wanted to be 100 alert in case something went… astray.

And so, when he had told Max and Isabel, they both had agreed that the plan sounded simple enough not to be some sort of trap, or anything fishy. Though Isabel had suggested including themselves in the second part of the plan just to make sure that it really wasn't a trap. It would not only make things easier for Michael, but it would also add a variable that Dave hadn't considered. Michael had agreed. In fact, he thought the whole thing worked better this way.

But when Maria had started to be nervous the night before, and had started to rant about the things she was supposed to say, and had started having problems keeping the stories straight –something that Michael had pointed out which had made her glare at him- _then_ Michael had started to get nervous. A tiny, little part of him was trying to argue that he might be getting Maria's anxiousness through their connection, but Michael knew better: _He_ was his own source of anxiety.

He did have a hold of Maria's feelings though. He just wasn't sure how to handle it all the way, so he had kept it relatively low. He didn't want to disturb her in the event that his own feelings reached her. This day was _her_ day, after all, so he was going to make sure that the –apparently- simple plan worked.

Besides, he did know enough about what Maria was going through to not want to upset her. Earlier that morning, when he and Max had watched Maria all but running down the corridor, Max had asked him with concern if everything was okay. Michael's two-word response had been pretty much all there was to know about what the girl was feeling: "She's pissed."

That was why, after watching her leave on her own, he had turned around and headed for the Cafeteria with the rest of the group. After a quick breakfast and making sure everyone knew what had to be done, Michael had left the place to fulfill his part of the plan. And so he found himself going to the kitchen area. One thing any birthday should always have was a birthday cake, and that was exactly what Michael intended to get. A nice, round, chocolate-spiced, eggs-included, well-baked, birthday cake. He still wasn't sure how he was going to get one, but Dave had said that whatever he wanted for Maria's birthday lunch, he could probably get it from _Danielle_.

And so, when he had left Dave's office early that Tuesday after his interview, he had walked to the kitchen to talk to this Danielle person to arrange what was going to be cooked. Except that the famous Danielle hadn't been around the kitchen, so he had just told what he thought was a good idea of a birthday lunch to the cook who had been there, and had left to join the others.

Now those others were all divided through the complex, for the first time really separated through the entire place. Maria was up there with Dave, Liz was at the Shop, Max had gone to retrieve some present from Jake two floors below, Isabel and Kyle were checking the other part of the simple plan, and he was now heading towards the kitchen. For some reason, it all felt in slow motion for him, and knowing that his family and friends were so far away from his protective grasp made him feel uncomfortable.

And he _hated_ feeling uncomfortable.

Even if things had gone pretty much harmlessly in the past week, Michael was still waiting for something bad to happen. The worst they had gotten so far was Jake kicking them out of the lab, and that statement alone was definitely the opposite of what Michael had thought was going to happen to them. Especially the part about being _out_ of the Lab.

So… why was he still waiting for the other shoe to drop? Figuring that one was simple: _Dave_. Dave and the endless circle of questions without answers. Dave and this oh-so-convenient offer. Still, the reason why Michael didn't turn around and drag Max and company along was because Michael also knew that something bigger was going on. Whatever Dave was plotting, he needed them, and he needed them well and alive. And though it was really hard to swallow, Michael also knew that they needed Dave. How much longer would they have survived out there was a question that the once spiky-haired alien didn't want to face, but knew the answer all the same: not much. Not much at all.

It didn't matter. It didn't help his feelings of being caged and powerless in this place. That was probably the strangest part of this whole thing: He had all of his abilities, was free to move around, everyone he cared about was close by, yet he still felt _powerless_. He couldn't deny that this prison was a strange one, but a prison all the same.

_It could be worse, _the thought came to him out of nowhere, _so much worse._ He honestly couldn't really understand why Max had even considered Dave's offer in the first place –let alone accepted it- when he knew so damned well what a place like this meant to them. What had Max seen in Dave that had made him trust him?

Max had been quiet when they had exited the warehouse that night when they had left the blue rooms and talked to Dave for the first time. God, not even a week had passed since then. And Michael had been so sure for a second there that Max had been trapped in memories of white walls. But his look hadn't been haunted. Instead, Max had looked _thoughtful._

_Yeah, as if that wasn't an understatement, _Michael thought as he was now halfway to the kitchen. Yet, Michael wondered sometimes… _really_ wondered what it was like for Max being here.

Early that summer, that awful summer three years ago, Michael _had_ seen a haunted look in Max. Not often, partly because Max had concealed it well enough so his parents wouldn't notice, and partly because they hadn't really seen that much of each other then. But in those early days before Max had stopped staring at empty space…

Michael had been so scared. Scared that Max wouldn't recover, or he would just withdraw into himself, or who knew what. Scared of losing his best friend in the world to imaginary walls and unheard echoes of questions Max hadn't been able to answer. And he couldn't let that happen. Michael hadn't been able to save Max from the FBI that night at the carnival, but he was going to be damned if he couldn't help Max now that he was out.

So Michael had done the best thing in the world he knew how to do: He had pissed off Max. Because if Max was pissed off at him, then Max couldn't be withdrawing or whatever. Instead, he had to be focused in the now, stay alert. The dangers weren't gone –_far_ from it- and Max just couldn't lose it. Besides, if Michael pissed him off enough, then Max would snap out of it and see what Michael was seeing: All the danger encircling them, the fact that they had to be prepared, and to let go of Liz and his pretenses of a normal life.

Michael snorted to himself. _Let go of Liz? Sure. _Not that Michael hadn't done his part in letting go of Maria to make his point come across. Hell, even Liz had known that and had done her part by walking away from Max. Yet they both had miserably failed. Max and Liz were married, for crying out loud, and Michael knew that, whatever fate threw at them, there was no other woman in his future other than Maria. So, yeah, the "letting go" part had been pretty much useless, and Michael had to accept the fact that the idea of getting Liz back had kept Max pretty much sane.

Max had wanted so much for Liz to see that things had gone back to normal, that he had fought every damned demon that was running in his head those months with everything he got. Unfortunately, that had also meant that he had stubbornly rejected the idea that their enemies were coming for them, that there was civil war on Antar, and that Nasedo was, in truth, his protector for the sole fact that Max himself was a king.

Michael had been furious, of course, furious and frustrated with Max. But he had also been relieved that, as time had passed by, that haunted look had disappeared. By the time Liz returned, Max didn't look haunted at all. He was back to his damned-stubborn, passive self, Michael's and Isabel's worries _finally_ catching up with him once Pierce's bones had been found. So worry had replaced the haunted, Michael knew, but he would take a worried Max over a haunted one any given second. Heck, even a stubborn, blind Max was better than anything Michael had glimpsed that night when he had rescued his best friend.

Sometimes, when Michael dreamt about them being whacked, he would be looking at Max, and Max would have that look, that same fearful, yet hopeful look he had had when Michael and Nasedo had reached him in that white cell. Michael had helped him off of that cold, metal table, and had been so surprised to find that Max hadn't even been able to stand on his own. It had broken something inside of Michael, and in the days and months that had followed that terrible day, and Michael killing Pierce, he would remember that look, that instant when Max had barely answered Michael's question of "Are you okay?" with "I am now." Pierce had done that to him, and though Michael couldn't shake the feeling that it had been wrong to kill him, a tiny part of him was glad he had. Was glad that Max knew Pierce would never get him again.

Max had told him once, while they had been alone on the road and Michael had been driving, some five months ago, that it was pointless for Michael to keep thinking about that. It hadn't been his fault. Things had just happened, Max had said, getting a far away look over the passenger window. Things had just happened and it wasn't Michael's or Max's fault. Still, a dark deep part of Michael wished he could make them pay. All those agents, all those bastards that had held Max in that white hell for what felt like eternity. Every single one of them should have paid, no matter how wrong the thought was. To know that no harm had ever come to them just felt… _unfair_.

Shaking such dark thoughts off, Michael refocused his attention in the here and now. He was just about to enter the kitchen, after all. Besides, Maria was still pissed, he could feel it, and that made him smirk. Dave was not going to have it easy. Everyone assumed he was the "difficult one" in this relationship, while Maria was the poor soul who had accepted such a dangerous job. Ha! When Maria was pissed, even Michael was scared. She had a tigress inside. So, if Dave had thought it was going to be easy, well… he had another thought coming.

- - - - - - - - -

In fact, Dave had reached a similar conclusion just the night before. When he had been mentally reviewing the events of the entire week, he had suddenly been assaulted with a strange idea: Maybe he had made a mistake. Maybe Michael hadn't been the "toughest" subject of his interviews. Maybe… he should be more alert about Maria. He had made a point to be careful about what he said to the girl who had melted Michael's heart.

And when Maria had all but stormed into his office early that morning, he knew he'd better stick to the plan.

How different the young woman standing in front of him was from Isabel. Why, Dave thought vaguely as he had stared at her, he had gotten himself a hurricane. A hurricane with a force capable of shattering his own train of thought and his carefully laid questions and answers if he didn't watch himself.

Isabel had been an unexpected challenge since his mind had been a bit unfocused after his asthma attack. But Isabel was the kind of woman who had mastered her emotions ages ago, and knew perfectly well how to play with them. How to convey or masquerade anything with her facial expressions. She had started sweet, and had ended cold, but every single one of those polite smiles and all those icy glares had been planned. Isabel _knew_ how to play this game, and one day she could really turn out to be an outstanding diplomat.

But Maria didn't know the game, and probably was not interested in learning the rules either. What he saw in Maria was exactly what he was going to get. She spoke with her heart, and had a temper to back it up as well. Where Liz would measure things and speak quietly, Maria would look upset and indignant and would "spill" whatever was on her mind in one long-winded speech. If Maria ever got a hold of how to hide her emotions and plans, she could very well become an outstanding politician.

Maybe he was wrong then. Maybe Maria did know the game, she just played it differently. After all, to be able to date Michael Guerin must require a well laid strategy, and no small amount of manipulation. Maybe then he, too, should give Michael some credit for being able to get along with Maria. Neither of them was easy and, as Maria had glared at him when she had first sat down, neither of them liked to go around in circles.

That had been what Dave had been thinking after Maria so eloquently had told him to "spill". But as she was elaborating on the fact that she was expecting him to reveal some grand secret, his mind went to the one single fact that he hadn't been able to get out of the past four interviews: What had happened to Max.

Dave knew that Maria was expecting him to ask about herself, so she had been startled and a bit shocked with Dave's first statement. Her defenses hadn't had a chance when the topic hadn't been her or Michael. She probably had rehearsed every little detail she could think of about her relationship with the edgy kid, so the last place where he had intended to start had been there. He had aimed to know Maria in another light, not just Michael's girlfriend as he suspected Maria believed Dave thought of her.

If Maria had been able to read minds, she would have known that Dave's conjectures that she knew "everything" were based on a very thin foundation. So, when she had started to tell the story from beginning to end, Dave had been… surprised. He had suspected Max had talked to her in detail, but he had never expected to hear so much. It was as if Maria were reading a script, gesturing every single line with a fire that spoke volumes of how much it had hurt her to hear what her friend had gone through, and how much she still resented it all. It gave him a very vivid picture of how Max must have told her in the first place too.

"Liabilities?" Maria was all but shouting now, telling her side of the events about what she, Liz and Alex had done while all of this was happening. "Liabilities, please!" she said, indignantly recalling Tess's words. "Hell, who would have shown up with all the cars, the Sheriff, and a escape plan had we been just _liabilities_?!"

Where Kyle had been hurt, Liz quiet, and Isabel cold, Tess was a subject that brought a fierce side to Maria. A barely subdued anger that was waiting for him to say the wrong thing to have her cut his throat… or something…

"They would have been trapped," Maria said with finality, an index finger almost jabbing the dark table. "They would have been trapped, all four of them, and we would have had to stand on the outside, never knowing what had happened to them. But we were only _liabilities_, of course…" It was as if the word actually caused her physical pain, Dave thought, as he had all his attention pinned on her every word. She was almost hypnotic.

He wasn't sure if Maria was still upset about the whole thing, or was just trying to hide the fear that those memories stirred inside of her. Maybe both.

He had heard from Kyle how his father had been obsessed with Max, and from Liz how she had finally reached the decision that Max was willing to tell the Sheriff the truth to save her, so she had gone to him all the same. That had ended with Kyle shot and Max saving him, which had pretty much sealed the deal. Both Michael and Isabel had touched lightly on the subject that having Valenti on their side had been one of the best things that could have happened to them in some situations. So it was interesting to see the final chain of events that had led Jim Valenti to become these kids' ally. Max had _the_ final pieces, of course, but by now the picture was pretty clear to Dave.

Jim Valenti was an interesting piece who was having a very interesting life dealing with all the other adults in the kids' lives. But this Dave kept to himself.

"You have _no_ idea how terrifying it all was," Maria was summarizing, her tale almost spun, "Liz had been kidnapped, then Max was taken… and all of a sudden, Pierce was in our hands and… it all seemed so _real_. I mean, sure, we knew they were aliens, we had seen them using their powers, but being in the middle of all that, without really knowing if we were going to be alive… We were teenagers for crying out loud. We weren't supposed to deal with that kind of crap…"

_You _still_ are teenagers,_ Dave thought. Maria was barely 19 today, and their so called experience from that moment in time to this one was, well… scarce. They had managed great accomplishments, he couldn't deny that, but more than half of those were thanks to sheer luck, and no small help from Jim Valenti on more than one occasion.

"And then… it was just over… And we were all scared, trembling kids who didn't know how to deal with the whole mess. Liz got herself as far away as she could from Max so he could follow that stupid idea that he had to be with Tess, how noble of her, of course. And Michael _also_ swallowed all that idiocy and set me apart. God, even Isabel slowly grew apart from Alex, and suddenly we were this divided group, where we couldn't really walk away, but weren't really together," Maria frowned, her eyes lost in some distant memories. "When Alex was killed, it divided us, but the line was so damned clearly defined you could see it like a neon sign. But that summer… that summer we _wanted_ to remain together, but we had all these stupid ideas that we couldn't. There was no line. We all wanted to run, to pretend that it hadn't happened at all…"

Maria focused her eyes again on Dave's, something she had done through most of her recounting of events. She stared at him for a long moment, and the fire in her eyes reminded him of another 19 year-old girl, half a world away, whose present was patiently waiting in Engineering for his inspection. If Sybelle didn't kill herself on that motorcycle –as she had promised she wouldn't- then he would kill her himself if she as much as scraped a knee -figuratively speaking, of course- but both girls shared that inner strength and bold nature, though Sybelle's temper was more calculated, somewhat of a mixture of Isabel and Maria, now that he was thinking about that.

"So when Max just started telling me that night…" Maria continued, oblivious to Dave's thoughts, "It just hit home to me how scared the three of them were, and how much they needed us, how much they needed to trust us, because the world was really out to get them."

It still was out to get them too, and not only this world, of course… How many enemies he could make had always been a wonder, but how many enemies these kids had was a monumental achievement. Enemies from two lifetimes, to make matters worse, if not weirder.

"Did you know that there was a time when Max didn't even think there was a 'them'?" Maria somberly asked, the mood in the room definitely heavy and dark now.

_Yes,_ Dave thought to himself, _I can certainly believe Max once thought that… _If he had to guess –and he had always loved to gamble and guess- he would have bet that Michael had _always_ known there was a "them", and that Isabel more likely than not would think there was a "them" as well. And that left Max in an awkward position, where he wanted to trust humanity, to belong, and dismiss such a dark assumption. For all that they had told him, Dave would also bet that Max wanted to belong just as badly as Michael once had with his search for his alien heritage, just that Max had been more practical and had searched for that belonging closer to his whereabouts.

Now both men knew there was a "them", and it was also more than a safe bet that they both had found someone to belong to. Yet, when Maria's words were still unanswered, Dave realized she was expecting him to say something.

"Max has a tendency to…" Dave said, searching for a right word, "trust people." Maybe even a tendency to search for allies, Dave silently wondered. What Max lacked in aggressiveness, he more than compensated for with observation. A quality most people didn't possess –along with patience- and that was highly underrated as well. Maria snorted at his comment, though, slightly nodding, obviously agreeing in some way to his assessment.

"Trusting… yeah, I can see that," she said, arching an eyebrow, "You would look at his eyes when we were back in elementary, and you just _knew_ you could trust him. Max isn't the type who would turn his back on you for his own benefit. He was always in the back, always holding himself in check, with those big eyes wanting to trust the entire world," Maria stopped for a second, remembering. "I had never thought about that until that night, when that light was gone from his eyes. That's what they took away from him, that trusting look. When he stood up in my room, and he had that lost look… that _vagueness_ there… they killed the part of him that used to trust…" Maria trailed off, but Dave's thoughts kept going after her words.

_I hope you're wrong, Maria,_ Dave thought with worry,_ because without Max's sense of trust… then this whole thing is for nothing._

- - - - - - - - -

If there had ever been a moment when Jake would have said, "He had that deer-caught-in-the-headlights look" it would have been then. Not only did Max look caught, but he also looked like he hadn't slept well in over a week, had been worrying sick for over a month, had not known mental peace for over a year, and the emotional talk they were having now was taking a very heavy toll as well. In other words, Max looked like hell.

Max blinked, as if suddenly considering Jake's question about what seal Max had been talking about. He slightly shook his head as if clearing his thoughts.

"Forget it, I'm mixing things up," he quietly said, and if not for that look of just a second ago, Jake might have truly believed him.

"What are you mixing it up with?" Jake pressed. Whatever this Seal was, for one instant it had seemed to confirm to Max that what Jake had been saying wasn't true, so Jake really wanted to know why his words were being doubted.

Max didn't look at him though, his lips pressed hard, becoming a thin line. As casually as he had tried to act dismissing the subject just an instant before, now his whole body tensed. He almost imperceptibly shook his head again.

"You don't know what it was like…" Max said, his eyes still on some point on the floor. "He kept asking questions that I couldn't answer… and I knew it was just a matter of time before things got worse. And when he threatened Liz, and Isabel and Michael, all of them… I would have said anything to keep them safe."

Max finally looked directly into Jake's eyes, a sad but determined expression settled in his eyes, "So when I look back now, all those thoughts… all those threats, get mixed up. I don't even really know what I'm mixing them up with anymore, and I don't think I want to know either. Half of it doesn't even make sense to me. I don't know what I meant with that 'Seal'… Sorry."

The atmosphere around them got so thick one could slice a knife through it. Max was getting _good_ at lying, Jake realized with a smidge of amusement and a lot of annoyance. After all, the best kinds of lies were the ones laced with truth, right? He guessed this was 3/4 truth and 1/4 lie. A proportion Dave would definitely approve.

If Max had been Dave, though, then Jake would have kept pressing the point, cornering him, but for all they had been talking about, Max looked remarkably calm, and Jake was not about to disrupt that. With his perfect memory, Jake would never forget this incident, of course, and the Seal question would remain exactly that: a question for the years to come. Eight years, to be precise.

But back on that Friday morning, Jake aimed to keep things smooth between them, especially since they had been talking about Max's heart stopping. So he let it go, for the moment. He grimly noticed too that his list of "things to do/talk/research/confront later" was growing longer and faster than he would have liked.

"I _am_ truly sorry for everything you went through, Max," he sincerely said.

"It wasn't your fault," Max simply answered, and as he did that, his eyes took a downcast look, fixing themselves on the table between them. "I'm _terrified,_" Max confided after a few seconds had gone by, his voice low, "I'm so terrified that I have made the wrong choice… that by being here… that you'll do—" Max leveled his eyes again, cutting his own words, that deer-caught-in-the-headlights look on him again too, and this time he closed his mouth with an almost audible clasp.

_That you'll do the same things_, Jake wondered if those were Max's thoughts at his sudden stop. Not exactly the nicest thing to say, but definitely the most honest. Settling back on his couch, Jake let go a slow sigh. He didn't know how to convince Max that he was safe with him. Only time would show that.

"I didn't mean it to sound—" Max began, and his words were caught right in the middle of the sentence by a _beep_. It startled Max for a second, probably because he wasn't yet used to the G.E.S.'s beepers, and then he looked at Jake.

"I think that's yours," Jake said, knowing that his G.E.S. was on his desk in the other room. Max frowned for a second, and reaching into his pocket, he took his own device out, the small monitor glowing. A text message, Jake knew.

As Max was reading it, Jake tried to clear his mind from the memories he was making Max relive. Memories that were not his, but that Jake had read in part. Dark memories, for sure. And so he focused his attention on his gift. Not a bad wrap for him, he thought with a small smile, but it was still lacking the ribbon he had found someplace in his apartment.

"I better keep—" Max started to say as he was reading his message, but Jake motioned with his hands that he stay seated.

"Wait, I just need to add the final touch to this thing," Jake said, taking the paper, the scissors, the tape and the gift into his arms. "For what it's worth, Max," Jake said as he was standing up, "I don't think you made the wrong choice. I really don't," Jake ended a stern look lat Max. Max returned it, and Jake could see all the weariness and sleepless nights there. "And I _really _think you should get some sleep."

Max's eyes opened a bit in surprise, and then he slightly nodded, rubbing his eyes with his right hand. "I just need the present and then I'll go… You know, there are things to do and…"

"Make sure you take a nap between those things to do," Jake said, concerned about Max's lack of energy. "It'll be just a minute," Jake indicated the gift in his hand, and so he went into his office, the atmosphere clearing between them as if a ray of light had cut through the fog.

It was a bit unnerving how fast things changed with these kids, Jake thought as he crossed the doorframe to his own desk. Things certainly tended to get into a challenging/testing mood. As if they were measuring him, to see how far they could get away with some things. Like kids stealing cookies, partially aware that their mom had been watching in that direction, hoping that she wouldn't say anything.

Placing all the things he was carrying on his desk, he mentally shook his head. He was willing to give them room, but he wasn't sure how much he should give them. Nothing good was going to come out of lies, even if those were only "partial" lies. He turned to look at Max's direction. Max was the key, he knew, because if he could convince Max that things were as they seemed, then the others would –eventually- trust in his judgment as well.

It could perfectly be his imagination, Jake was thinking as he searched below his papers on his desk for the ribbon, but he was betting that Max wanted to trust him too. There was so much Jake wanted to ask him, but some things had to be done first, and those included clearing any doubts he or the others could have. That Max had already taken an interest in knowing what Jake knew about them was somehow… well… _awesome._ Jake smiled at his own choice of words, finally spotting the elusive ribbon, but the truth was that Jake did feel better about this whole thing. It gave Jake hope that someday they would get along and work really hard on knowing what was going on in all those billions of cells.

It took him a whole six minutes and twelve seconds to get the ribbon right. The colors didn't exactly match, but he rationalized that the present wasn't going to be wrapped for too long. He had tried it in all possible angles, but since the sticker with his name and best wishes was already there, there was only so much he could do. Besides, if Max was planning on leaving, there really was no time to do something different.

Shaking his head slightly at his own musings on ribbons and wrappings, Jake finally took the present and walked back to the first lab, where the white screen was. He was wondering why Max hadn't come out after all that time, but he was not surprised when he found Max exactly in the same spot where he had left him: On the couch, where Max had fallen asleep.

_If only you would follow what I tell you that easily all the time…_ Jake thought with half a smile as he contemplated the uncomfortable position Max had chosen to fall asleep in. Still sitting, his head was bent back as if watching the ceiling. Maybe he wasn't really asleep, just closing his eyes for a moment, Jake thought as he entered the room. But, on closer inspection, Max's steady breathing seemed proof enough to validate Jake's first thought.

For the longest of seconds, Jake had the twitching impulse to go to the next room, snatch one or two things, and come back to monitor Max's sleep. He was dying to see what an EEG would show of this nonREM stage. Though he had followed very closely the electroencephalograms of all six of the kids, being drugged and being naturally asleep was different. Especially when the subjects used their brain abilities in such unique ways than the rest of humanity did.

But Dr. Jake R. Holt kept his hands and curiosity to himself as he stood watching Max getting his much needed sleep. He was content for the time being with the fact that Max had at least felt safe enough to let his guard down and take a chance to rest in this place. Either that or Max had truly been wiped out and had not had much of a choice at falling asleep here.

Seconds went away, and Jake let go a slow sigh at the thought of what they had been discussing only minutes before. There was so much Jake didn't know, but Max knew even less.

Medically speaking, Jake could have gone on and on for the rest of the day. Wilson's notes had been remarkably useful, just as MetaChem's had been later on. Except that Michael had suffered nothing and had been blissfully unaware that someone was studying him. Max hadn't been so lucky.

All Jake had were Wilson's account of events, which Dave had filled him in on when he was first presenting Jake the "project", adding a very dark remark that went something along the lines of, "Like hell I'm buying there wasn't more". It _had_ felt incomplete, Jake had agreed. For 24 hours of captivity, it was way too much information, starting with the drugs reactions to Wilson's details of getting Max's heart beating again. All very medical, true, but it lacked a very… _human_ element. A rather psychological approach.

Jake had carefully read the notes as Dave had been shredding a napkin over Jake's desk. Jake liked to read on his couch, so he hadn't minded, used to Dave's way of dealing with stress. And the more Jake had read, the colder he had become.

"_What do you think happened?" Dave had asked, his napkin puzzle forgotten, "What are those notes telling you?"_

"_Torture," Jake had answered without hesitation, his eyes pinned on Wilson's prediction of healing times for deep cuts._

"_I gotta get them off the road," Dave had whispered, standing, and then he had proceeded to tell him Wilson's tale about Pierce's need for information and Wilson's own "desperate" efforts to keep Max safe. _

As Dave had said, like hell Jake was believing there hadn't been more, or that Wilson had been that worried trying to play Max's savior. Wilson was playing it all knight-in-shining armor, an agent following orders, but there was something off in his entire report. Jake didn't know what, exactly, just an overall feeling that things had gone worse than what Wilson had let on.

Jake let go a frustrated sigh, thinking about all the things that had happened to the young man in front of him, especially after hearing some of those from Max's perspective. Jake wondered why he had thought that, after all those experiences, he actually had a chance at earning these kids' trust. From the moment he had opened the door less than forty minutes before, he had known something had drastically changed in Max. Jake just hadn't known what, and now he wasn't sure he knew either.

By the end of their conversation, Max had looked more than exhausted. Not just physically, but also emotionally. Jake had seen him getting more and more anxious, his eyes moving back and forth whenever he was recalling something, and his hands would grip the couch's edges without Max noticing. Jake was no shrink, but he knew that what had happened to Max was bound to leave sequels behind. 24 hours… so much could happen in 24 hours to change a lifetime.

Since the couch was large enough for a person to lie down, Jake wondered if he should risk settling Max in a much more comfortable position. He knew that if Max woke up, then he wouldn't want to keep sleeping there. So, biting his lower lip for a second, Jake decided that a sore neck was the worst that could happen to Max for sleeping like that.

Jake sat down on the couch opposite to Max, just thinking. Truth be told, Jake doubted Max could remember half of what he had endured, and Jake was not going to refresh it all, step by step, for Max's imagination to fill in the blanks. That was why he had made so many pauses, to see if Max could actually recall the events on his own or not. Because despite what these memories were doing to him right now, Max needed to talk about it. That much Jake knew about psychology. And since Max had raised the subject up and had wanted to stay on it…

Between the ice bath and the electroshocks, enough had happened for Jake not to want to linger on, and since Max hadn't been keen to dwell on it either, Jake had not pressed it. For all Wilson's notes had gathered, what Jake was really aiming at here was for Max to see what else had happened as well. Give him a larger version. In some twisted way, to give him a reason.

What Pierce had done was torture without blood. All he had ordered up to the point when he had begun his psychological torture had not left a permanent mark. When someone else got to retrieve Max, there would have not been any signs of what he had done. It all had worked until Pierce's patience and time had worn thin. Although almost invisible, Max still wore the only physical scar his captivity had left: A very thin, 3 inches long line right in the middle of his chest. Even if Jake hadn't had Wilson's notes, it was too perfect to mistake it for a random accident of any sort.

As his eyes were pinned on Max's chest, or rather, Max's gray t-shirt over his chest, he caught a glimpse of something glowing below. Max's G.E.S. was still held in Max's right hand. He had probably switched it to silent mode as it was not beeping as before. The small monitor went dark, just to light up again four seconds later. Jake saw this knowing that probably whoever had text-messaged him before was wondering why Max was not on his way.

Jake looked at the door thinking that he should go get his own G.E.S. and send someone a message explaining where Max was and what he was doing, and wondered if it was going to sound weird or not. Max. Sleeping. On his couch. Right… Shaking the idea off, he got up to retrieve Max's device and see who the sender was. As he picked it up, careful not to wake Max, he got to read the message as he was standing straight again.

Then, he stopped in midway.

_What's wrong?_

It could have meant any of a million harmless things. Two words that everyone could say to ask anything but the actual meaning of something being wrong. Yet Jake's mind never had any doubt that _something_ was wrong. Especially when the message sender was Liz. His eyes sharply turned to look at Max, dispassionately and methodically looking at the way he was breathing, the way he had just seemed to fall asleep.

The G.E.S. glowed again and he ignored it.

He hesitated for a second on what to do. Max had stated that no one was allowed to touch them without their permission, so Jake turned around and searched for the remote control. Two seconds later, he turned the white screen on and flipped through the special lenses to find what his instruments were picking up.

Nothing seemed unusual after he had gone through all five screens. Some parameters were barely on the normal scale, but still… He turned to look at Max again, still sleeping, ignoring the doubts that were running through this man's head. Jake could have made a mistake by assuming the words from the text message were something dreadful, but on the other hand, his monitors only picked up superficial signs.

Turning once more to the screen, determined to dissect all the data coming from Max, Jake heard someone coming into his office. Whirling around, he just in time caught Liz coming into the room, her brown eyes taking in the scene. He felt like he had been caught doing something inappropriate.

"What have you done to him?" she whispered, her eyes looking betrayed. Yet Jake didn't care, because if Liz was here, then something was, indeed, terribly wrong with him.

- - - - - - - - -

AN: the line that read, "Why, Dave thought vaguely as he had stared at her, he had gotten himself a hurricane" was a small, small homage to the Roswell Elementary stories, from where the nickname Hurricane Deluca spread out and became almost canon. It does describe Maria pretty well ;)


	29. Mind Games

Thanks for coming back to read!!!! It sure has been a long time...

Thank you all for your patience. I know it sucks to have to wait this long between parts. And because I know Michael is going to give me hell to write him, I moved his part to chapter 30, though you will get to know more pieces of Maria's gift now :D

By the way, according to my logic and plan, there are only five chapters left for this book... so questions are very welcomed just to make sure I've covered all my bases ;)

AAANNNDD the girls at Roswell Heaven (h t t p //p072.ezboard .com/broswellheaven) very generously have let me have an "Author's Chat" on their site. So I'm just wondering if you guys would like to come one of these Saturdays? Let me know if it would be better at a 2pm EST time or 8pm EST time :D That way I can ask for a date and let you all know.

So, all that said, here's the next chapter! Let's see how the storm is going for those two... for all of them, actually

* * *

**XXIX**

**Mind Games**

Maria hardly ever found herself at a loss for words, and this day was no exception. It had been remarkably easy to throw herself into this "tale", almost creepily so, and in retrospect, she hadn't even been aware that she was still keeping so many feelings inside of her regarding that whole time. Not only because of what had happened to Max, but also what had happened to all of them. Everything they had lost in such a short time. One week she was worrying about Michael not "getting it", and the next she was a nervous wreck about not seeing Michael ever again. Talk about priorities.

It had been so long since she had told what had happened to Max that it almost felt like she was telling something that had never really happened. If only that were true… By now she was starting to feel the weariness of it all. The one and only time she had told half of it had been three years ago, to Alex, and she had silently cried through it all, her tears sliding down her face as Alex had placed a soothing arm across her shoulders.

God, she missed him. Good ol' Alex had sat through the whole thing with her for almost three hours, comforting her, as she chose what to tell and what not. She had felt far safer telling this to Alex than to the man in front of her, of course, but telling Alex had attached a guilty feeling, because she had known that Max had never wanted to tell any of this to begin with, to anyone. He hadn't wanted Alex to know, and she knew it. As far as she was aware, Alex had never told anyone, especially not Isabel, but now Maria was spilling the whole thing to Dave. The least she could do was to tell him that he was _not_ to take this lightly. He couldn't take advantage of knowing her and Max's sort of secret.

"He made me promise I would never tell them, especially not Liz," Maria fiercely said, and realizing there was nothing she could really do to stop him, she asked with concern, "You won't tell her now, will you?" She was dreading that Max's trust in her would be broken by this man, no matter how noble her intentions had been –or how twisted the circumstances for that matter. Yet he just looked at her with a look of respect, pretty much the same look that Alex had had when he had been listening to her. The one look that said, _I won't betray you._

"No," Dave almost whispered, his eyes fixed on her, all his concentration on the subject.

_No._ Just like that. One word. She was expecting something more along the lines of "this will be our secret to keep" or something stupid. Yet she believed, with that sole word, that Dave was not going to disappoint her. She wondered since when was she so trusting, or more likely, what was it about Dave that made them want to trust him?

Admittedly, the guy was nothing to sneeze at. She wouldn't put past him that he spent an hour or so at the gym three times a week and probably kept a diet as well. But it wasn't just his looks. He had a friendly air around him, almost playful, just like when she had entered this office more than an hour ago and she had caught him in midair. However, there also was another side of him, one more serious and thoughtful, like the way he had looked at her right before stating that he knew Max had talked to her. She frowned. How had _that_ happened anyway? Maria wondered not for the first time, finally deciding to fish for her own answers.

"How could you know?" Maria asked, half worried, half expectant. She didn't even want to start imagining what it would mean if Dave had been spying on them from way before the Phoenix incident. "How did you know he talked to me about this?"

Dave's eyes blinked once, but his expression didn't change, as if he were still listening to her with all his attention pinned to every detail. With the same tone he had said "no" just thirty seconds before, he said:

"'I really want to know. So if you are feeling dizzy, weak, dry-eyed or whatever, just tell me.' Those were your exact words," Dave said as Maria's mind was trying to make sense of what Dave was talking about.

"Exact words?" she finally managed to ask.

"You asked him that," Dave said, blinking once more, this time breaking eye contact as he composed himself on his seat, "when you woke up in the rooms. Dizziness, weakness, dry-eyes, they are all symptoms Max went through at one point or another."

Maria stared at him, half of her brain trying to remember what she had said to Max in those awful hours, and the rest waiting for Dave to continue explaining what _else_ he had known to reach that conclusion. But as the seconds went by, he didn't say anything else.

"That's it?!" she exclaimed in disbelief, suspiciousness laced in her tone.

"Well, I've been told I'm a very perceptive man—"

"No one's that perceptive," Maria cut him off. He smiled a small smile at her interruption. He lowered his eyes to his puzzle for a second, as if recalling something.

"Did you ever wonder why the walls in your blue rooms were thinner or thicker?" Dave asked, his eyes returning to hers, inclining himself a little forward, his tone softer. "Why you were actually 'paired'?"

_Yes. Hell yes!_ Yet, as uncharacteristic as it was for her, Maria remained silent. This was obviously one of those rhetorical questions. She just raised her eyebrow as in "your point being?"

"I'm perceptive enough to catch on to details, though it's usually the way those details are presented that give me the better… picture. With you six, it was all in your relationships. What you would say, or not say, depended on who you were talking to. I took my chances at pairing you the way I did, yet very interesting details came through. I already knew things from school gossip about how you and Max had gotten closer when Liz went away to Florida that summer. And when you went straight to the point when you asked Max if he was alright, knowing exactly how he would feel if he hadn't been, that's when my perception kicked in. You were worried about Michael, and you didn't want to upset Max more than he already was… But you had to ask. And that was exactly what you asked first."

"They were just three things!" Maria said still with disbelief.

"They weren't random," Dave answered her with a firm tone.

"You could have been wrong," Maria retorted.

"But I wasn't," Dave said, slightly smiling. In that moment it dawned on her that Dave had tricked her into telling him everything Max had told her without really knowing a thing. Her eyes pierced Dave's as if she were ready to throw daggers at him in a very literal way. He didn't lower his eyes though, but his "aura" of friendliness was getting thinner all the same.

It boiled Maria's blood. She could have gone and told the short version of the short version and Dave wouldn't have known better. She narrowed her eyes at him, outraged. This was what he had been doing, wasn't it? He knew little details and there they were, believing he already knew _everything!_ She didn't regret telling Dave what Max had told her, but she was positively fuming at being deceived like this.

For that matter, what else had she told Max in that stupid blue room that Dave could use to his advantage now? She could barely recall more than half of what she had said to him. Max had been her only link to the others except for Michael's connections, and that had been an experience unto itself. Michael's emotions had rolled over her in waves, as his anger and anxiousness had been hand in hand escalating to the sky. Not exactly her idea of fun –and much less in those circumstances- but now that Dave was bringing it all back, she tried to recall what else she had said, for all the good it was going to do to her...

"Was it really worth it?" she snapped at him yet again, and she didn't care. "You go on and on about us trusting we made the right choice and then you just zap! Say things like this! You left us there for hours without knowing a thing! And all for what? Just details that might or might not tell you things about us?"

"It was more than that," he answered, his calmness unshakeable it seemed. "It gave me clues. Hints. But more importantly, it gave me significant, solid pieces to start seeing the outlines of the puzzle you kids really are. Not second hand information; not school gossip; not classified files. It was the first time I was really seeing all of you in… well, action," Dave said with a small smile. It made Maria's blood boil even more.

"What could you possibly have learned from us panicking in those creepy little rooms?" she said, outraged. "Do you have any idea what it felt like to be trapped there?!" she demanded, placing –almost slapping- an angry hand over the desk.

He looked at her impassively. "I learned about how you deal with situations. How you prioritize. What was more important to each one of you," Dave paused, looking straight at her, almost as if he could read her mind. She held his gaze. "From what you said, I did get a good idea of what it felt like to be trapped there."

"_Well, if you call pissed off and scared to death okay, then he's fine."_ She had said that to Max about Michael, and she had known Max had been feeling something along the same lines. God, how had Max managed not to lose it there, especially knowing what he knew from experience, she would never know. She was still wondering how they were all managing with being here herself, and a tiny little voice told her at the back of her mind that her sudden rage at the man in front of her had everything to do with all the stress she had been bottling for the past week.

She narrowed her eyes in a disapproving gesture. Right there, she didn't really have any good thoughts about that man. He crossed his arms in front of him, a thoughtful expression on his face.

"If I had been the FBI, do you think all of you would still be alive?"

_Maybe. No._ She didn't want to think about it. It sounded like an honest question, but Maria knew where Dave was going: _I saved you. I kept you away. Ain't I great?_

"But you are not the FBI and yet you kidnapped us for three days and left us there… To our worst fears." She slowly shook her head, trying to piece together her thoughts and her words with a slightly open mouth. Though she usually would say whatever came into her mind, she was trying to say the things that would hurt this man the most. He deserved that and so much more. "You're not better than them," she finally managed to say with disdain.

Dave regarded her for a couple of seconds. "At least I'm not worse."

His statement sent a cold wave through her spine as the meaning behind Dave's too calm words hit her. If he wanted to, he _could_ be worse than anything. Hell, Maria had been so convinced the man was going to respect this deal because he got the better end of it, but if her gut was wrong…

"We could leave, right now, just like that," she said, snapping her fingers, playing the one and only card that truly would keep Dave at bay, or so she hoped.

Dave was silent for a moment. Then, standing, he quietly answered, "Yes… that you certainly can do."

His words seemed to hang in the air, almost as if they were echoing in an immense cavern. There was a certain finality to those words, and Maria would bet good money there was also a hint of annoyance, with resignation as well. He turned to the side and started walking towards his famous cupboard; snack time already, she guessed.

"I have no doubt that, if one of you really thought it was worth the risk to leave this place, you'd do it, just like that," he said, snapping his fingers, imitating her gesture of just a minute ago. "I wouldn't expect less from any of you, especially not from the girl who turned down a possible million dollar music contract, and who also has the temper to deal with Michael Guerin on a daily basis."

Maria followed him with her eyes as he reached the cupboard, not sure where was this going.

"So, to answer your earlier question, yes, it was very worth it to place you in those rooms, taking the risk of scaring you out of your minds. You _are_ here, after all."

"You weren't behind that deal, were you?" she asked, narrowing her eyes. Maybe _this_ was one of those unexpected things he had done. But Dave paused in front of his cupboard, a bit puzzled.

"The record deal?" he finally asked as it dawned on him what he had said just a second before. She didn't move. "No. That was all you… and them, I had nothing to do with it." Maria arched an eyebrow as if saying, "Really?" Dave turned and bent down, searching for something in the cupboard.

"I can play almost anything you can throw at me on a piano," he said more to the cupboard than to her, "and it would technically be perfect, but…" he paused as he finally found the mug he had been looking for, "it wouldn't really sound right."

Maria frowned. The guy certainly wasn't shy or humble –and she had almost wanted to roll her eyes at his statement of how perfect he was- so, why wouldn't it sound right then?

"I lack passion," he said as he stood, "music has never interested me. So I can assure you, I had nothing to do with your company record, your annoying scout, or your even more annoying music editor… It was a pretty good contract though."

Subtle. Sure, he might not have _arranged_ anything about it, but he sure seemed to know _all_ about it. She snorted. "You _would_ know about contracts, uh?" she sarcastically said. He smiled though, and bent again, this time to the mini-fridge.

Maria's stomach rumbled –though only she heard it- at the sight of Dave taking out a milk carton. She hadn't had breakfast, of course, and she hadn't had much of a dinner either. This day sucked, she decided, as Dave's eyes returned to her as well.

"Well, it would seem that you know exactly what you want from those contracts," he answered, but this time she didn't take the bait, if that was what it was.

"What exactly do you know about that contract, anyway?" _Yeah, let's see what amazing three things you know about this,_ she angrily thought.

"Only what your friend Billy said, actually."

And that was low. She certainly felt the air leaving her lungs not to return for a couple of seconds. _Billy?__No, not Billy!_

"'Great car, great talk, great studio, but it was all marketing and no soul.' Those were _his_ exact words."

"I thought you said it was a pretty good contract," Maria managed to say, though it came out sounding flat. Her mind was still on her friend, imagining him sitting in some café in New York, unknowingly talking to Dave about his great plans and how once his friend had come this close to making them real.

"It was. The problem was that you didn't agree with it. You liked what they had to offer, but not what they wanted in return."

Well, of course she had liked the idea of millions invested in her songs, traveling the world, becoming famous and what not, but the price had been too high. They weren't going to be _her_ songs to begin with, and just as Billy had –apparently- said, it was all marketing and no soul. She fixed her eyes on his face –and not in his now milk-filled mug- and getting a grip she said, "Oh, doesn't it sound familiar to a certain deal we made?"

She could practically see the wheels coming to a stop in that twisted mind of his. Time seemed to stretch as four or five seconds went by.

"So why didn't you?" he said, his tone serious, paused, no smiles anywhere now. "Why didn't you turn down the offer, keep going on your way, and never look back?" he asked her, placing his mug at his side, all his attention on her, but a rather different attention. She suddenly felt like a mouse being watched by a lion. She dismissed the feeling quickly.

"Because you made it plain and clear that we had no better choice," Maria coldly answered.

"I also made plain and clear the conditions of our deal, but you seemed to believe my word is worthless."

"We didn't exactly meet under charming conditions, now did we? I think we at least have the right to expect the worst of any circumstance regarding you."

"But that's exactly my point," Dave said, slightly narrowing his eyes. Maria could almost imagine a big, restless, yellow tail behind him, "You _think_ something wrong is going to happen. You expect it at every corner of this place. But the truth is, since you accepted this offer, nothing bad has remotely happened to any of you. So I don't see why your low expectations of my word should interfere with the actual facts of this deal. You are the ones who believe Jake and I see you as some kind of lab rats, and that we only want to benefit blindly from you. That was _never_ said."

"Not out loud…" she muttered, though she knew very well he had heard her. She slightly inclined forward while holding his gaze, "If you really want to look that closely at the 'fine print', it was never said that we had to accept this with smiles and a joyful choir," she ended with a fake innocent smile. He slightly glared at her, and she dropped the façade. "What the hell were you expecting?" she indignantly –and rhetorically- asked.

The lion's tail seemed to give one last snap and then stayed still.

"Whatever it was," he said calmly, "we were both expecting different things and got very different outcomes. Though in your position, that turned out to be for the best."

"Right…" Maria said, turning to look at her left, preparing herself to tell him what exactly she thought of her position and how "good" it was, but her thoughts were cut off by a phone. A cell phone. It rang so loudly in the middle of her words and her thoughts –and the silence between them, for that matter- that it actually startled both of them for a second, making them stiffen.

The cell phone rang again as recognition came to Dave's eyes. Oh, she couldn't wait to tell him one thing or two about cell phones and meetings, but as Dave started to walk towards the door, a very serious and almost worried look settled on his face. And for the first time he looked dangerous too. This man was not one she wanted to mess with, especially not now with the vibes he was sending out. The change was… interesting at the very least, and a bit frightening too. She thought she was cornering him for good, but now she wasn't sure if the man was acting for her sake. What kind of man was she really dealing with here?

"We'll continue this in a minute," was all he said as he stepped out of the office, leaving a somewhat bewildered Maria behind.

The shock didn't last though. As soon as Dave had left the room, closing the door behind him, she stood up and went to the door itself. Who knew? Maybe she could eavesdrop on something. Clearly, whoever had called had made Dave stop in his tracks pretty badly.

Dave didn't go too far away from the door, but he didn't speak loudly exactly either. The words were coming muffled as she strained her ears to catch something, anything from the conversation at the other side of the door. It took her almost a whole minute to realize he wasn't speaking in English, and the next second she cursed her stars for not staying with the French Club back in High School.

"Tu en es sûre?" the words came muffled again. She _was_ fairly certain it was French, and the words sort of rang a bell in her memory. Something like "are you correct?" He kept talking, and she kept listening… and frowning too. It didn't help matters that she was listening to half the conversation. Why couldn't he be talking in Spanish?! She would have had more luck with that…

"Non, non, cela doit être fait immédiatement. Je vais m'en occuper," Dave sounded closer, and she had no clue about what he had just said, except that he sounded too serious for her liking. "Non, je ne vais pas interrompre mes vacances juste pour ça."Maria frowned deeper. "Vacances" was a word she actually understood: Vacations. Well, he had said to Liz he was on vacation, hadn't he? Dave sounded farther now. Was he pacing?

"Non, je m'en moque …"Dave continued, making Maria sighed in frustration. _What_ was he saying, for crying out loud?! "Cela ne lui prendra pas longtemps, je sais, mais ça ne _me_ prendra pas longtemps non plus" Okay, so Dave was talking about a him? Something about time? Oh, stupid language, she cursed as she glared at the door. Dave must have walked further because now Maria didn't hear a thing.

"Oui, je _sais_" Dave's words came loud and clear almost at the other side of the door making Maria jump an inch. "Yes, I know", she understood that last sentence. "Non, pas pendant mon anniversaire," Dave kept saying, his words sounding distant again. He definitely sounded as if he were pacing. And what had that been? _Anniversaire?_Didn't that mean "Birthday"? What, he was talking about her? Maria pressed harder against the door, her eyes narrowing, going to the numbers on the wall.

And then she suddenly realized she was all alone in that office…

Her eyes turned to the desk, and then to the door. She couldn't hear him right now, and there was no way to know if his call was going to take much longer, but… That desk –with its drawers full of secrets- was suddenly very tempting to check out…

* * *

The place was beautiful. It was no wonder why Dave had suggested it to begin with. Granted, Isabel had had her doubts when Michael had said there were huts by the frozen lake –and God knew she had had enough of camping and the forest to last her three lifetimes- but as Ray was showing her and Kyle around, she could definitely see herself practically living here all winter long… and spring too… As long as mosquitoes could be at bay, summer as well. 

_Hut_ wasn't really the word for it. It was a house by the lake, relatively small, with an exterior that made it look as if it hadn't been used in quite a while. Yet once one passed the threshold, things changed. As in welcome-to-the-21st-century changed.

"So, when do I move in?" Kyle said as they were entering the kitchen. The style of the entire house wasn't rustic at all, but more of a bachelor's apartment, all chrome and modern, big comfortable couches by the chimney, huge windows overlooking to the frozen lake, a pool table in one corner, a small bar just behind the dinning room. The polished wooden floor was neatly kept, and gray, blue, and maroon rugs covered it in strategic places. Still, it felt rather cold, and artificial… it lacked a woman's touch, Isabel thought. Ray chuckled at Kyle's question.

"You, me, and everyone in this place," Ray said as Isabel was inspecting the fridge, which was empty. "No, both huts are recreational only, but it takes a lifetime to get one when you want it. They are harder to keep under surveillance, and that makes them one of the weakest points to this place. So the huts are not available much of the time, except for special occasions. You have to arrange things with Administration, you know? Richard? And to get permission to be up here can be tricky, at best."

"Not much room for a spur of the moment thing, uh?" Kyle said with a smirk.

"Not in this place, my friend. Nothing can be a surprise in this place… much less for Richard…" Ray said as he glanced at his watch. "I take it the others won't take long now?"

They both looked at each other, unsure of the answer. "They shouldn't take long," Isabel said, "though I'm not sure _exactly_ how long…" Ray arched an eyebrow at her.

Because the huts were half a mile from the main compound entrance, Ray had driven Isabel and Kyle. He hadn't looked too happy at their breakfast meeting when they had told him that both Max and Liz were staying behind to tie some loose ends, and had been much less euphoric at the fact that Michael wanted to bring Maria there _alone_, which meant that Ray had to give him his car. But to be truthful, the man had given in without much opposition. As long as things were clear as to where everyone was supposed to be and at what hours, he had said, then he was okay with that.

And that meant following a schedule. Isabel was all for schedules and planning and decorating, and to a reasonable degree, she could trust Max and Liz to follow one too. Kyle was with her, so she could keep him on time. Now, thankfully, Maria was out of the equation, but Michael was a whole other thing. _Schedule_ was not a word that could be found in Michael's mental dictionary. Sure, she knew that under attack or any life-death situation, Michael would be precise to the second, but putting those scenarios aside...

Ray still looked expectantly at her in search of a more straight answer. Isabel suspected Ray was a guy who was used to following schedules as well.

"Why don't we call you when they are ready to come?" Kyle said, looking between Isabel and Ray, "I mean, we know Max and Liz shouldn't take much longer, but Michael has the food, so there's no telling how much time that's gonna take."

Ray slightly cringed at that comment, and Isabel supposed the guy was really big into keeping schedules and straight hours after all. Of course she would never know that Ray's cringe had to do with a certain French cook named Danielle.

After a couple of seconds of consideration, Ray finally nodded. "Okay, sounds about right. Now, about the security measures…" Ray began as he re-entered the living room and went to the plasma monitor behind the pool table. For the next fifteen minutes he explained in detail about the perimeter, the procedures in case of emergency, and ended up with a very earnest look about calling him if anything remotely suspicious happened.

"We haven't had intruders since we first moved in to this place, but it would only figure today is the day, so… I don't want to take any chances."

Why, Ray wasn't worried about them trying to escape through the frozen lake or the snowy roads? She sarcastically wondered to herself. Though the perimeter cameras covered the surrounding areas, the huts themselves didn't have any surveillance beyond a standard security system. Nothing that she couldn't disable if she needed to either.

But the other stuff, the Network Keepers stuff that she had checked back in her apartment… That was enough to give her a headache. It was wired in some weird way that, though shutting down the entire place wouldn't be a problem for her powers, shutting down just one section would. It had alarms upon alarms, and disabled systems upon disabled systems, so if she were to disconnect one area another would take its place or something. She would actually need to do a real attempt to know how it would all fall out, and she somehow doubted that the man in front of her would appreciate that, let alone Dave.

Ray looked around the place one last time, as if he were mentally checking that everything was in order.

"You didn't bring any decorations?" He finally asked.

"Only one set of alien-powered hands," Kyle said, "at least until the other two can come…"

Ray blushed as he turned to look at her, half wanting to say he was sorry he hadn't thought about it, it seemed, and half nervous as well. He reminded her of Michael in the middle of trying to apologize, which was a very rare event. Ray opened his mouth and left it opened for about three seconds before saying, "I see."

He looked once again at the place –anywhere but them, Isabel noticed- until he finally turned to look at her. "Well, if you have everything under control, then I'll leave you to set things up." He walked himself to the door, and before he left, he turned one last time to look at them, "I know it's been a long, strange week for you all, but try to have some fun. I'll bring Max and Liz when they call."

And with that, they were left alone.

"Fun, right," Kyle said after ten seconds had gone by, and turning around he saw the pool table, "though it has its possibilities…"

"Michael will beat you at it," Isabel warned him as she walked to the windows and looked outside as Ray's Land Rover disappeared. For the first time in this place she felt somewhat free, away from prying eyes.

"Not if I bring my powers to the party," Kyle said, half jokingly, half serious. Isabel turned from the window and went to the closest wall.

"Don't even joke about it," she seriously said. She touched the wall, trying to decide what kind of yellow would suit better with the place. Something in red too, and maybe she could do something that said "Happy Birthday" without it sounding forced, let alone cliché…

"What if I'm not joking…?" Kyle's quiet voice shook her out of her thoughts. She was so used to Kyle's sarcasm and cynicism that sometimes, when Kyle was actually being serious, she still wondered for a second if she was misreading him. And God, she _wanted_ to be misreading him right now. She turned to look at him without saying anything, just waiting for him to continue.

Kyle sighed. "I don't… I'm not…" he tried to begin, but miserably failed. And he looked miserable too. "Listen," he said, taking a deep breath, "maybe these are the last sparks, but… I'm trying to not freak out, okay?" Kyle rushed in as Isabel closed her eyes in an almost defeated manner. "I've been meditating, and thinking about it, and I think… I-I think I have it under control…"

"What happened?" Isabel asked, forgetting the wall. In fact, she was starting to forget about the party too.

"I just sparkled for a few seconds on Wednesday… maybe on Monday too, I'm not sure about that…"

"Not sure?!" Isabel snapped, worry creeping into her mind. "Kyle! We're playing with fire here!"

"I know!" Kyle defensively said, "But I keep thinking that the worst has already happened. Liz stopped sparkling for about two months before getting her powers… Maybe I'm just… I don't know… at the verge of getting mine too…"

Isabel silently sat in the couch facing the chimney, a million things running through her mind. First she couldn't dreamwalk Dave; now Kyle might just turn green in front of Jake.

"It might actually be a good thing," Kyle said, approaching her, "maybe… maybe they are even gone now…" he wondered out loud with a hopeful tone. Isabel looked up at him, for the first time in months considering how scary this whole thing was for Kyle. She remembered getting her powers, discovering them by accident… the fear to the unknown of her own body. So many things that hadn't made sense in those early days… She half smiled at him, and then she closed her eyes and leaned against the couch.

"We are not that lucky Kyle…" she tiredly said. Sure, they didn't understand why exactly Liz had powers, but Isabel was not going to be hopeful about Kyle losing his… They really weren't _that_ lucky.

"I really think I'm getting over them," Kyle seriously said, sitting beside her. "Liz had had her first premonition by now, you know… And… I'm not… doing anything… so…" Kyle trailed off, and Isabel sensed he was searching for comfort and an it's-gonna-be-alright speech. She sighed.

"I've been trying to dreamwalk Dave all week long without being able to enter his dreams… and I'm not sure what that means," she just blurted out, as if it were the tell-your-darkest-secret-to-the-guy-next-to-you hour. But, she reflected, it was better to talk about her breaking Max's precious no-dreamwalk rule with someone other than Max. At least for starters.

"I'm sure Max is going to love this…" Kyle sarcastically said as he settled in to hear her out. And just before she started to elaborate, something at the back of her mind made her uneasy. As if something had been tuned down, or just completely turned off… Something to do with Max, actually…

* * *

Time had seemed to slow down almost to a stand still from the moment Liz had started to feel Max slipping away to the exact second when she had reached Jake's lab door. It all had been impossibly clear to her, every sense in her body heightening in search of any sign of what was wrong with Max. She had never felt more alert in her entire life, and few times had she ever experienced such fear. 

She had been feeling their connection getting lower as Max and she had taken different directions, and she had thought it was curious how just two weeks ago she wouldn't have been aware of Max getting farther from her. At least not while still being relatively near each other.

She had felt Max's anxiousness growing some ten minutes after they had departed, and she had guessed he had reached Jake's Lab by then. She knew he wasn't looking forward to facing him –and she had been slightly surprised when he had told Michael he was going to go get Maria's present from Jake- but once he made a decision… Besides, he had seemed to want to discuss something important. She had been able to tell through their connection that he'd been restless all morning long, and she just knew that something was bothering him. Something that hadn't been bothering him the night before.

Liz hadn't pressed the issue. They all had things to do before Maria's interview was over, and for the first time in this place they weren't thinking about doing every single one of those tasks as a group. Nothing would be on time if things had been done that way.

So, when things had started to get lower in her side of the connection some twenty minutes later, Liz had been torn between calling the others, calling Max, or doing something… The more she had tried to get to know what was going on with her husband, the harder it had gotten, as if Max was closing off to her. In fact, as the minutes had gone by and she had kept shopping at The Shop, she had realized he was blocking her out. She had rolled her eyes briefly and had sighed in frustration, but if Max didn't want her there with him… What was bothering him so much, anyway?

It hadn't been until she had reached the cash register that she had been really worried. She had felt the first of several peaks in their connection, getting low all of a sudden, only to return to a somewhat normal level a moment later. It had felt as if Max hadn't been sure if he was blocking her out or not. Or as if he hadn't known if he _wanted_ to block her out or not.

Then there had been a terrible second when she would have sworn Max had been dead certain he had made a huge mistake, just to regain his control and smooth things out in their connection a moment later. Had he even been aware of how many emotions he was sending her? She had absently passed the things she had purchased to the guy at the register while trying to assess what was going on with Max. A minute passed, and things didn't change. Half of her mind had been concentrated on putting her things in bags, while the other half had been waiting for any sign that Max was okay now.

Her connection had gone low once again as Max had chosen to close off, at least partially, and Liz would have sworn she had seen a flash of white in her mind. If Max was thinking about the white room, then it would explain why he didn't want her around his thoughts.

She had stood still, staring into empty space. If Max _was_ thinking about those horrible things, did it also mean that he was afraid it was about to happen again? Her worst fears had taken over for a brief second. If Max was in danger, there was no way he wouldn't let her know, if only for her to reach the others and get out of there. So no, that couldn't be it. All the same, she had taken out her G.E.S. and with slightly trembling hands she had started to type a short message: "You're taking a lot of time. Everything's alright?"

There. Nothing that anyone reading could misunderstand, and enough to get Max out of whatever situation he was in. He could blame his wife for wanting him somewhere else. And, most importantly, something that would let him know she was feeling something odd from his side.

Seconds had gone by with no response. And then she had felt Max opening up again, a certain reassurance slipping through their connection that things were okay. She had actually smiled at that, feeling slightly silly for worrying so much. And she had just started to wonder what was really going on with their connection being so unsteady when suddenly there hadn't been anything to feel at all.

Like a candle blown out, Liz had been left in the dark, and a cold sensation had grown immediately in her stomach, a shiver running through her spine making her tremble. Max was out. Plain and simple.

That had been when her senses had heightened, taking in every detail of everything she was seeing, hearing, tasting, smelling and feeling. The air conditioner around her felt too chilly, and the cologne from the guy in front of her was way too strong. Her mouth filled with a mixture of acid and salty taste, which, had she had the time to think about, she would have said it was the taste of dread. She hadn't even thought about how intense the colors around had gotten, because she had just turned around and started to run towards Max, her bags forgotten, every reason to stay calm and in control forgotten as well. Only the sound of her heart in her ears had seemed to be inescapable.

She had gotten as far as the entrance when she had realized she had no clue where to go. So she had taken the G.E.S. out once again, fighting with the tiny screen, option after option displaying useless functions, until she had finally found the map of this place.

As she had started to walk in the right direction, she had been aware that there was a part of her that sensed she was going, indeed, in the right direction. Somehow, somewhere, she still had been able to hold onto their connection, like an invisible rope in a cold, desolate world. That had calmed her down just enough to regain coherent thought.

She hadn't run then, but she had walked fast. Fast enough to turn a head or two on her way to Lab 2 – 00 – 22, Jake's lab. The G.E.S. had mapped for her the fastest way, which wasn't very far away, yet it still had felt as if an ocean had separated them. As she had been reading the map, the message option caught her eyes again. She had taken a turn, and had typed, "Max?" just as her grip on herself was starting to fade. "You OK?" she had added as she had picked up speed again.

He had said that he hadn't felt anything wrong with their connection, so surely he was bound to feel her panicking at his lack of response. She had kept staring at the G.E.S. in hopes of receiving a message back, but as the seconds had gone by and nothing was changing on her side of the connection, Liz had typed yet another message, "What's wrong?"

She somehow had felt incredibly stupid at that. If something was wrong, Max was not going to text-message her back. She had wanted to tell him that she was coming to his aid; that she _knew_ something was wrong but was terrified of writing something that would give him away. She had wanted to say so many things at that moment, especially when she finally reached the second floor below where the lab was. Max was not going to be happy about her getting this close to Jake and his lab, but she screwed it all.

"Max?!" she had sent a last message. If he was in any position to contact her, that would have snapped him out of it, and when nothing had come back, through the G.E.S. or their connection, then Liz had really panicked.

The last corridor had finally come into view, and this time she had run all the way to the right door. She hadn't read the map for the last two minutes, her instincts telling her exactly where Max was. She could just feel him.

As she had approached him, she had felt heavy. Each step had felt as if she had been carrying a ton of bricks, and her chest had felt as if she had been breathing against a G4 force. Her fingertips had tingled, and she had barely acknowledged that she could start sparking anytime now. She had needed to see Max right there and then.

The next seconds had come in a blur. She had reached the door, she had read the numbers as she had practically thrown it open and then... and then all she had cared about was to _feel_ Max, to know he was all right. It had taken all but a second to open that last door, just to find Jake turning to look at her as her eyes had turned invariably towards Max. And then time had come back to its normal speed.

It was hard to describe what exactly she felt at that sight. All her fears of the past week came rushing back to her with a strength that almost knocked her out, but above all, there was the stinging feeling of betrayal. She turned to look at Jake.

"What have you done to him?"

Her words seemed to vibrate in the room, and as she entered to go to Max, she was met with a slight electrical current in the air around her which she ignored. She needed to get to Max, to touch him and… _reconnect_ with him. And she needed to do it _now._

Jake just stood where he was, no words coming from him to deny or clarify what was going on, and frankly, she wouldn't have believed or cared whatever he had said.

In six long, fast strides she reached Max, bent over him, and placed her hand over his cheek… and then everything felt charged, and warm and… _wonderful._ All her worries and thoughts melted away as she finally make contact with him, feeling him reaching out for her from within with a mental peace that she hadn't felt in months.

Tears dropped from her eyes as she released a small but completely heartfelt laugh. She felt embraced, and acknowledged, and recognized immediately. As if something inside of Max hadn't been sure who she was until now. And the best part was that it didn't fade away. She felt Max just as strongly as she always felt him when they were close by. When they were touching each other. He felt 100 Max, he was just…

"He's just… sleeping…" she finally whispered to herself, all the tension draining from her body, making her almost collapse on the couch next to Max. She didn't care. She was way too happy to care about anything right now. Max was fine, and the world was right all over again.

"Sleeping?" Liz heard Jake behind her, reminding her that she wasn't alone with Max in that room. "Are you sure?" and his voice sounded as tentative and fearful as Liz had felt herself when she had been up there at The Shop.

She slowly turned to meet his eyes, reluctantly letting go of Max. Even though she didn't say a word, Jake must have read the relief on her face as he closed his eyes while letting himself fall seated on the couch next to him.

"God, I'm getting too old for this," he simply said, his right hand going to the bridge of his nose. "You're sure, right?" he said, snapping his eyes open, "He's just sleeping?"

Liz slightly narrowed her eyes as she looked down on him. "Why did you think he wasn't?" Now that her worry for Max was put to rest, suspiciousness came back to her. _Had_ Jake really done something to him? Did he know something she didn't?

Jake frowned for an instant, just to arch his eyebrows a moment later as he caught Liz's meaning. "I read the text message you sent a couple of minutes ago. Max fell asleep here as I was finishing something in my office, so when I came back and saw what you had written… I assumed something was actually wrong and…" Jake trailed off, narrowing his eyes just as she had done before. "Something _was_ wrong, wasn't it?" he asked, and the way he said it reminded her of her father when he had just caught her lying to him. She felt awkward all of a sudden.

Liz slowly shook her head, her eyes pinned to his. "Not wrong… just… off…" she explained, feeling way too self conscious for her liking. However, before Jake could say anything else, her eyes went past him to the screen behind him, and what she saw made her eyes go wide.

"Oh, my God…" she whispered as she turned to look at Max.

* * *

AN: I want to take a moment to sincerely say **THANK YOU** to **xmag** for taking the time to translate those lines to French, not to mention all the support she has given me right from chapter 5 when she first PM'ed me!! You are such a cool girl!!! 


	30. The French Word pt 1

Thanks for coming back to read!

Hey guys!! First of all, I'm sorry to say this is only half of the chapter... and I usually wouldn't post incomplete chapters, but I'm proud to announce an Author's Chat this upcoming Saturday June 9th, at 8:00pm EST, at Roswell Heaven. (The address is on my profile).

You'll need to have an ezboards account (it's free).

That said, I'll come back with chapter 30 once it's finished, which should be around two weeks from now :) Thanks for your time!!

* * *

**XXX**

**The French Word**

He _was_ getting too old for this, Jake decided the second that he saw Liz's face changed from white-as-a-sheet pale to a radiant smile. He could practically feel the adrenaline leaving every cell of his body, making him take a seat to calm his racing heart. These kids were going to be the death of him, he decided as well.

He had been so convinced Liz knew exactly what was going on that her relief was also instant relief for him. That was, of course, until the rational, scientific part of his mind took over once again and realized that he really didn't know how exactly this "connection" of theirs worked. He snapped then out of his respite to question Liz further. At least now that she was here he could get permission to get tests done if they were necessary.

But Liz's _oh-my-God_ whisper sent his blood pressure to hell, as her eyes caught something behind him and then she turned to see her –apparently- sleeping husband. He turned immediately to see what was wrong now, and his eyes too went wide.

_That's some view,_ he silently thought amazed as he slowly stood up. When he sat down, he had inadvertently hit the screen control that had been in his hand and had fallen behind him on the couch when Liz had entered the room, so the screen had changed to the only sensor that he had deemed useless in the present "crisis". With no real way to understand what it was recording –let alone knowing when its readings were normal and when not- the special "aura" lenses had been the last thing on his mind. Now they were showing an incredible –and invisible to the naked eye- display of energy. Max's energy.

It was filling the entire room, wall to wall and floor to ceiling, making it hard to see the three people inside it. Though it was mostly white, close to Max it had brilliant hues of blues and light blues, enveloping Max himself and Liz, slowly spiraling as if a lazy current was running inside the room.

It wasn't the first time he had had a good peek at Max's colorful energy, but he had never seen it expanding this much. Jake looked down at his hand, almost trying to feel the energy that he knew was passing through his body right now, but he didn't feel any different than any other day. Questions filled his mind immediately. Why wasn't he feeling it? Had he grown accustom to Max's energy as it had been filling the room? Had it been a slow process or had it been a spontaneous thing as Liz had came in? It took Jake's mind a couple of seconds to snap out of it as his prime concern returned to his neurons: Was Max really alright?

His eyes still transfixed watching the screen for a few more seconds, Jake finally turned to look at Liz. "Does it feel… _different_?" Jake asked, not sure how exactly to interpret anything coming from the readings on the screen.

Liz slowly sat next to Max, one of her hands going to his forehead to move some bangs from his closed eyes, her expression worried again. She returned her eyes to the screen once more, and then looked directly at Jake. "It actually feels… stronger," she finally said, and after briefly hesitating, she asked, "Is it… normal?" she whispered, apparently not trusting her own feelings and sensations or whatever it was she got from Max and their connection.

"Every other reading is between normal parameters," Jake said, taking a seat once again, this time in front of Max and Liz, so the screen was showing Max's energy at Jake's right. "I don't know much about what we are seeing here though, but the fact that you… _feel_ that he's okay actually makes me feel better about it."

He wanted to tell her that he wanted to run some tests, that he wanted to make sure that things indeed were between normal parameters for _hybrid_ biology, and he wanted to ask another million questions about what exactly she was _feeling_, but Jake didn't know how to phrase any of those questions without him sounding… _cold._ Sure, he had Max's best interest at heart, but he couldn't deny either that his scientific curiosity was playing a large role here, and most likely than not, his intentions were going to come through fishy. He decided that if things stayed the same for a little while then he was not going to push the issue.

His resolve died a second later when his mind couldn't stop thinking about what had caused Max's sudden deep sleep. As harmless as it seemed to be, one didn't just fall asleep on the couch in a very stressing environment. Silence was slowly but steadily building up just to emphasize how _stressful_ the room could really become. Liz absently bit her lip as she caressed Max's hand with her own. Such an intimate gesture, Jake thought in the middle of his crowding theories and worries, and for some reason he felt like an intruder in the whole scene. But, since it wasn't likely that any of the three were going to leave this room anytime soon, he guessed it was going to be sooner rather than later that he had to bring up all those questions…

Seconds kept going away. He spoke six languages fluently and he still didn't know what to say. The irony wasn't lost on him.

"He feels… fine," Liz suddenly said, and Jake understood then that she had been keeping quiet as she had been sensing Max's condition. "Great, actually," she continued with a small smile. "He was just so tired all this week…"

"It's not an easy time for any of you," Jake said with a small smile of his own. "Changes in general are already stressful, so I can only imagine what you are going through," Jake paused, and then turned to look at Max. "He must have really scared you right now, though. You said he felt… _off_?"

Liz nodded a couple of times, her mind clearly still somewhere else. "Yeah… like a light that is not so bright anymore, you know?" she explained, frowning as if struggling to find the right analogy. She turned to look at him. "He hasn't been sleeping well all week long… And even before that, with the FBI…" she trailed off.

Some reassurance came to Jake from her words though. He had seen how tired Max was, heck, he had even told Max to take a nap less than half an hour ago, and having Liz telling him that Max felt "great" put some of his most wild theories at ease. Maybe Jake was making a big deal out of this… But it didn't hurt to double check, did it?

"Has anything like this ever happened before?" Jake asked, more confident this time. Now that Liz didn't seem to think he was out to get information for his own machinations, he was going to try and form a more educated guess about what had just happened. She shook her head.

"Not as far as I know…"

"Headaches?" he continued, his eyes fixed on Liz so intently that he didn't miss Liz's whole body slightly tensing up at this inquiry. Maybe he was going too fast too soon. "Most people who claim to have some psychic ability say they get headaches or other symptoms, that's why I ask."

Though Jake had been talking with Max, Isabel and Michael on Monday, Tuesday and Wednesday, he still wanted to have Liz's perspective in this whole thing. What exactly did she know or had she experienced? What did she know about Max that could help Jake to understand what was going on? Besides Max dying –or whatever that had been- there had been some other odd effects for the hybrids on certain circumstances caused by external conditions, like alcohol. But powers-related Jake only knew about the time Max had fainted at the Phoenix Hospital. Yet that was overuse of power, and for all Jake knew, Max hadn't fainted just now, and this seemingly deep sleep didn't come for being exhausted thanks to his special abilities. Max seemed to just shut down for lack of sleep.

"No… he was just tired… he couldn't sleep… and… a-and there was this… _thing_ yesterday," Liz stumbled upon her own words, clearly not sure if she should confide in him with this.

"_Thing_?" Jake pressed all the same, intrigued. Every time he talked to any of these kids, the most weird words and circumstances kept popping up. Yet this proved that Max's sleep might not be as harmless as Jake was slowly starting to believe. Or not as sudden.

"I'm sure it was nothing," Liz corrected, suddenly feeling quite exposed, Jake thought. He still looked at her intently regardless if he was going too fast too soon. For Max's sake, Jake needed to know. "For one instant yesterday… I couldn't… feel him… And Max didn't even notice I… was… not feeling him…"

Silence. By the way she was looking at him it was as if she were waiting for a mortal diagnosis or something. "I take it that's not normal?" Jake asked, trying to steer Liz in the right direction so she would tell him exactly what he needed to know. And he needed Liz calm and rational for that.

Liz sighed and briefly closed her eyes. "No… not really… Well, I mean… We thought it was stress, you know? It's not… it's not like even we…" she trailed off for an instant as her eyes went back to the screen, Max's energy filling the room just as brightly as five minutes before. "We don't even know what's normal and what's not…"

_You're kids playing with fire,_ Jake thought for a moment, and a chill ran down his spine. Of course they barely knew a thing about themselves and what they could do and how dangerous it could be for them and for others. It was one of the reasons Max had wanted to talk to him early in the morning, to get to know more about himself. To get to know what Jake and the Special Unit and anyone else knew about them. They were just scared of asking the wrong man, and they had every right to be scared too. It was all just so frustrating that the kids and Jake were all aiming for the same result, wanting the same answers, yet they didn't trust him.

Not that any of this was new news for him. He had known all his plans and expectations were going down the gutter the minute he had laid eyes on those three on Monday morning, but it was till this very moment that he was truly aware of how clueless they really were. And what consequences it could have. He pushed his troubled thoughts to the back of his mind.

"Then we should start with what we do know," Jake said with what he hoped was a reassuring smile. "That way we can establish some 'normal' parameters and work our way up from there."

Liz bit her lower lip and turned to look at Max. Jake wondered if she was silently asking her husband if what she was doing was right or not, and a tiny little part of him sparkled at the thought if this bond between them could develop into telepathy of some level.

"You said he felt 'off'. How does it feel when he's 'on'?" Jake asked, hopeful that Liz had reached the conclusion of trusting him with this information. For one instant, he thought she hadn't. Liz slightly opened her mouth and frowned at the same time. Seeming to think it through, she closed her mouth for a couple of seconds while her eyes got a lost look.

"It's just an awareness…" she finally said, meeting Jake's eyes again, "A… _knowledge_. I don't know how else to explain it. I just _know_ things, his feelings…"

Max had said as much when Jake had asked him on Tuesday morning about their connection. Max felt Liz's feelings and vice versa, though he hadn't elaborated on that, now that Jake was thinking about it.

"But when you felt Max off just ten minutes ago, you thought something was wrong… Why?"

Liz took slightly more time to answer this, turning to look at Max again. "I'm so used to Max's connection by now…" she said as she intently looked at her husband's relaxed face, "that when it went off so suddenly… it scared me…" she admitted with a slight shrug. "I thought for one second that… something had happened to him."

_You thought for one second I had done something to him,_ Jake corrected in his mind. No wonder she had looked at him with such betrayal in her eyes. It was a logical conclusion, and it threatened to shatter his patient limit about dealing with these kids and all these circumstances and trust issues that he had to juggle with. He swallowed his frustration all the same and kept going for more small details about how these kids' minds work.

"So this time was… worse than yesterday's 'thing'?"

Very slowly and almost imperceptibly, Liz nodded a few times. "You know… when we go to sleep, I can feel the connection just… getting low, barely there. Or sometimes he just closes off for awhile, or I close off for awhile too… But this was so… _sudden_. And yesterday he didn't even notice…"

"And you think it was stress," Jake recalled.

"It makes sense, doesn't it?" Liz asked, hopeful, biting for the fifth time her lower lip in as many minutes.

"People react to stress in very different ways…" Jake said, now looking at Max. He remembered seeing Max all tensed from Monday to Wednesday, too wired up to look exhausted. And this morning, when Alan had opened the door to find a bewildered Max standing in front of them, Jake had really noticed the heavy toll sleepless nights were having on the teen.

That image of Max standing there actually triggered a quite obvious idea: He had just told Liz to look back so they would come up with some parameters, and hadn't he already seen exactly that? The real, tangible proof of Max's stress impact on his energy had been captured on Wednesday morning by the same special lenses that were now showing it filling the room. When Max had shattered the glass door, to be precise.

Jake had looked at the recording for close to an hour after he had dismissed them. Isabel's energy had been bright with whites and light blues, pretty much still and condensed an inch or two all around her tense body. In contrast, Michael's had been restless, the bright blues showing and disappearing as his energy seemed to travel around him, sometimes slowly and sometimes fast enough to make one think Michael was worrying big about something in that hermetic mind of his. Opposite to Isabel's, his energy would jump from time to time, flaring some good three feet from him to just dissipate in thin air.

But Max's had been an odd combination of the two. It would mostly remained close to him, like his sister's, hardly moving at all, bright blue and bright white merging as his concentration grew deeper and deeper in the book in front of him –or so Jake had thought at the time, just to realize later Max had been concentrating on Liz. But every so often some energy would just seem to come out of the blue some four to six feet from him, flaring sometimes from Max's own energy, the only indication that it was indeed Max's and not Isabel's or Michael's. And the more time had passed, the denser and stronger those outside dashes of energy had become.

Three seconds before Jake had scared the three of them by mistake, some of Max's energy had sort of clustered in front of the door, as if it had wanted to keep going and had just been stuck in that part of the room. And then Max had been startled and his energy had seemed to spark in intense spikes against the glass, shattering it, as the rest of his energy retreated into a tight compressed layer close to him again.

And that, right there, was Jake's answer. If this was that kind of stress, then he would be seeing something like what he had seen on Wednesday being played out now on the screen. Instead, Max's energy kept lazily moving, not clustering anywhere, just flowing steadily, like his heartbeat. Like every other single reading he had, everything was within normal parameters…

"I think he's clearly not sleeping because he's too stressed out," Jake said, watching the screen now with more attention than before, "but right now I would say sleep just shut him off. We should let him sleep for awhile. I still don't like the fact that you felt him 'off' though. You two should take this seriously, and not just go around hoping it's just stress and that it will go away on its own. It can turn into something very dangerous." _Like shattering doors without meaning to, to begin with…_ Jake thought to himself.

Liz lightly blushed, probably at being scolded, and she lowered her eyes for a moment. "Of course," she barely said above a whisper. Her eyes turned to the screen one more time. "It looks so peaceful though," she quietly said, "and he feels so relaxed."

That he did, indeed. Jake started to relax himself now that he had a better idea of what could be happening to Max. As long as that energy didn't start clustering, then he would remain optimist too.

"It must be interesting being around him," Jake said out of the blue, his voice coming a little bit wistful for his own ears. Liz smiled all the same, her eyes still fixed on the screen.

"There's always something amazing going on with Max," Liz said with such love and conviction Jake had no doubt that she meant it. Now, if she could get into details about that, the non-romantic-all-scientific part of him would be pleased as well.

"When he healed you… did you notice small differences?" Because Jake was also watching at the screen, he missed Liz's eyes getting wider for a second.

"What differences?" she asked, and Jake would have said her voice had almost sort of darkened at the end.

"Your hair, for instance, was… shinier? It looked brighter, maybe even stronger?"

"How… how do you know?" Liz asked perplexed.

"Because of Phoenix. I think that's Max's… 'problem' with healing. He didn't heal just their cancer, he healed every single cut, bruise or even 'bad' hair there was. He healed those children in every way that he could, probably because he himself didn't know the difference of the multiple things he was healing. I think that's largely in part why it exhausts him so much. But then again, this is just an assumption of my part. I was eager to ask you about the hair, though." Jake gave her a small guilty smile. Liz slightly nodded.

"What else do you know?" she suddenly asked, intrigued.

"They probably can't taste much because of lack of taste buds, which may stand to reason. They are investing a lot of resources of their brains to other functions, so they have to shorten out on some less vital skills. The fact that they consume such quantities of Tabasco without any digestive problems also suggest they must have very good stomachs." Jake chuckled.

"Yeah, I sort of guessed that one too…" Liz smiled at her admission.

"Their blood cells are amazingly adapted," Jake continued, all excited now that he could share some of his finding with someone who could be just as excited as he was, "They are extremely efficient at carrying oxygen. In fact, their cells in general are extremely efficient, period. Their self healing mechanism is a Holy Grail to anyone in that field."

"That's what Meta Chem was after, wasn't it?" Liz asked, her eyes wide in recognition. "They wanted Max to heal Clayton, that old man… But old age is not a disease…"

"It depends who you ask, I suppose. You can think of it as a 'disease' in order to find a 'cure'. But it's a natural process that we don't really understand completely. And understanding how their cells work… I mean, _really _understanding that, that's a whole other game…"

"That's what you are trying to decipher. That's what you… want," Liz said, slightly narrowing her eyes as if she were studying him, studying his reaction to her words. _What exactly do I want, really? _Jake asked himself in that moment. The easy answer would have been, _Yes! I want to know how their cells work, how their brains work, how everything about them works! _but that would have been such a short and one sided answer.

"I want what's best for you," Jake started, trying to organize his ideas to best explain himself, though Liz cut him off in mid thought.

"Best for us…" she almost whispered to herself, "as in let's-kidnap-you-and-drug-you-for-the-next-three-days best for us?" she sarcastically asked, defiant. So much for building trust.

His ideas kept organizing themselves as Jake sadly smiled. This was a question he had been anticipating since the kids had arrived more than a week ago, and truth to be told, they had taken a long time to bring it up.

"Yes," he honestly answered. Liz held Max's hand slightly tighter, as if she wasn't sure she wanted or not to hear Jake's explanation. He looked at their joined hands, thoughtful again. "He gets slightly warmer when he's worried, I'm sure you've noticed. That's why he was sleeping with a plain T-shirt when you were taken at the motel. You, on the other hand, were wearing a thick pajama with long sleeves. It was a very cold night, I was told."

_And I was told a lot of things I rather not tell,_ Jake thought as he looked at Max, his previous conversation bursting alive in his mind, since a lot of his reasons laid on what he knew had happened to him. _How much should I tell you Liz that won't betray your husband's trust?_ It was the first time he asked himself that, but it was certainly far –_really_ far- from being the last.


	31. The French Word pt 2

Hey guys!! Soooooo sorry for the long delay, and for splitting this chapter in two. Once this book is finished, I'll go back and re-arrange the order of the chapters to match the counter on the corner… sighs…

Anyway, thanks for coming back to read! And thank you everyone who reviewed! It was really appreciated!!

* * *

**The French Word – **_Cont._

French was giving him a headache.

French and bad news, to be exact. When his cell phone had rung some twenty minutes before, Dave had had no option but to answer it. Only a handful of people in the entire world had his number, and they all called him only when something critical was happening.

And something critical was indeed happening.

Somewhere in the world –hopefully somewhere very far away- his very efficient assistant Susset didn't lose time with greetings and formalities, and had gone straight to the point: she had found a leak in his financial transactions. He had answered her automatically in French because she was talking in French –she was probably in France… or her native Canada, who knew?- but his mind stayed set in English. Funny how his first question had been if she was sure, because if she wasn't, then she wouldn't be calling.

Of course she was sure. She had hired a consultant to oversee a monetary transaction between one of Dave's largest companies and a new genetic research private foundation. She usually didn't meddle with new projects –especially one that had started two years before on Jake's behalf- but she had been finding more and more small inconsistencies within her own projects, and she had started to get suspicious. And a suspicious Susset was something to take into consideration.

He started pacing, in a subconscious imitation of his best friend. Technically speaking, he was himself a thief, so he knew how things could work to steal someone's money through 1's and 0's over the net. He had taken a look at her data about three weeks before and, even if his mind had been mostly set on the kids and getting them to accept his offer, he had seen why Susset was worried.

Now she was calling him with her consultant's findings. Herbert Millini was stealing from him. Very bad news indeed. Very bad, because Millini was one of those Dave had once offered a deal, and now dear old Herbert was biting his hand. It hurt. A lot. It always did when the people he thought he had saved one way or another, had given a second chance one way or another, went back to their old habits and thought they could fool him. He guessed it was only natural, human nature and all that, but still… It meant that he had misjudged people, and that also bruised his pride about knowing how to read people so well.

Susset had given him a brief but efficient summary as to why she and her consultant were sure it was Herbert Millini who was stealing from him. She wasn't taking this lightly, because she knew what Dave's response would be: Leave Millini out in the cold. And the Italian-American guy really wouldn't like to be left out in the cold. Without a doubt, it would mean certain death.

So, she was offering Dave a chance to review it one last time, to which Dave had immediately answered that this whole mess had to be handled immediately. In his mind, he knew that at the very least, the money leak had to be stopped, and then the thief would be found. "I'll take care of it," he heard the words in French coming out of his mouth while he briefly looked at his office door. He was in the middle of his interview with Maria, so, how immediately could he really deal with this? And, as he was thinking that, Susset gladly confessed she was relieved he was finally cutting his over-long vacatios short. _Wait, what?!_

"Vacation" for Dave meant that he could dump everything else that was going on for a week and focus on one single thing. This year, it had been the kids, and he would have dumped everything else all the same too, but it just so conveniently coincided with his birthday, so Susset never had to question his absence. But by now, ten days had gone without him taking care of his tasks, and the girl didn't like –or want- this silence for so long.

Still, Dave's answer came loud and clear, and a bit too rushed. "No, I won't cut my vacation short for that!" and just as rushed came Susset's reply that Millini was not going to take too long to finish the job and run with whatever he had. Dave stopped his pacing, a knowing smile on his lips. "It won't take him long, I know, but it won't take _me_ long either."

His eyes focused in Maria's direction once more. Millini was doing this electronically, which meant all Dave needed was a computer and an internet connection. His very trusty computer was in there, inside his desk… but he could still manage something from his own G.E.S. His mind raced with routines and programs as he estimated how much time he should leave Maria waiting for him.

Susset kept talking all the same. The more time he waited, she was saying, the more easily Millini was going to erase his tracks. And as far as she had found, he had already stolen more than a couple of million from each of her own projects, let alone others. Oh yeah, that would certainly explain her urgency on the matter. She was a hard worker, and she took good care of her budget, and to see someone stealing it… She really had something against people stealing her work, but it was a whole other game when people were stealing her money.

"Yes, I _know,_" came Dave's answer, trying to tell her he knew how important this was for her. And her hopeful response made him roll his eyes. Was he going to cut short his vacation then? "No, not on my birthday," Dave said, meaning every word of it. His mind was already working on how to track his lost money –around 50 million US dollars, from what he was suspecting- and he actually wanted to have a special birthday not worrying about thieves who thought that they could fool him.

He narrowed his eyes at the thought of Herbert stealing his money… That was exactly what had gotten the stock broker in trouble in the first place. Well, Dave wished the guy good luck when the Italian mafia that was still looking for him finally found him minus the 12 million he had stolen from them four years ago. Herbert was very good at what he did, and that was why Dave had hidden him all that time, but why would Millini suddenly get confident enough to try to steal from him? The prize was too tempting? Or was it the adrenaline of outrunning the great Dave?

Whatever. It didn't matter. He had broken his deal and Dave was no longer responsible for his security. He hung up on Susset after reassuring her that he _was_ going to look into it now. Besides, French was _really_ giving him a headache.

He walked to the nearest couch and, still standing, he leaned against one of its arms, placing his cell phone in his right pocket and fishing his G.E.S. out of his left one. It took him exactly 14 seconds to access the net and find what Susset had said he would find. Clever, very clever, but still sloppy, Dave thought as he was following the money trail. It took him a couple more minutes to find the program that was feeding Millini's bank account, and another couple to find Millini's location as well: at work in Sweden. As if nothing was happening and his clever-but-sloppy program wasn't stealing from him.

Dave started running a subroutine to tell him how much money exactly was being redirected to this account. It would take a couple of minutes to run from start to finish, which left him with time to kill on his hands. _Why did Millini do this?_ Dave asked himself yet again. Now, Dave knew about set ups –that he knew very well, indeed- and though unlikely, maybe Millini was not really the one behind this whole thing. He re-wrote the program into making phantom money so whoever was keeping an eye on the ever-growing bank account wouldn't get suspicious. The money leak was stopped, so his number one priority was resolved. He would get back to the Millini problem once he was in Berlin next week. But not before his birthday, that was for sure.

That thought brought back his attention to the fact that today was Maria's birthday. He wondered how the kids had liked the hut, and hoped that had worked towards calming their nerves a bit more. Jake was right, they were too tense. He wondered too how Michael was doing down there with Danielle… Knowing each of them, they would both survive each other… barely… but they would, they were both too stubborn to give an inch. Besides, one thing was for sure: Maria's birthday food was going to be heaven. If the kitchen would survive them was another matter.

He pinned his eyes to the door and wished he had x-ray vision. He had taken an awful lot of time by now –12 minutes and 34 seconds- and he knew how restless Maria could get. He highly doubted she was picking puzzle pieces and seeing if she could make them fit. After all, all that was left was sky and sand, so all the pieces now looked pretty much the same.

She was a strange opponent, he suddenly thought. Part of him was sort of condescending because she reminded him so much of Sybelle –and Sybelle knew perfectly well how to talk him into things- but Maria had a way with words that reminded him of himself. She was still a bit rough around the edges, and talked way too much for her own good, but with time and experience, she was going to have a sharper tongue and a faster mind.

Where Isabel had her looks, and Liz had her science, Maria had her wits. None of the three girls would take crap that was thrown at them, as Maria would probably say, but all three put up a good fight, albeit with different weapons. Though he had to admit he was having a harder time with Maria than he had expected.

He wondered if he had miscalculated. Maria was probably more tight and jumpy due to the long stressful week, and the more time that had passed with nothing wrong happening to the kids, they were bound to get bolder, slowly measuring how far they could go. Dave knew because he would have done exactly the same. But he almost shivered at the thought of having Michael today instead of Maria. A more tight and jumpy Michael was actually hard to imagine, but if he had left Michael for last… Then his window wouldn't have survived, at all. Max had been definitely the safest bet to leave for his sixth interview. It would take more pressure to make Max act bolder, that was for sure. Yet Dave did wonder how the leader of the six was managing with the stress of the long week.

He blinked, returning himself to the here and now, remembering that he had a very pissed off Maria in his office. It almost felt as if nothing he could say would lead to peace talks at this moment, and that annoyed him. Not only had she arrived half an hour later, she had also crossed verbal swords with him, almost cornering him more than once, a feat usually reserved for Jake and Jake alone. Not even Sybelle would get that far.

He guessed the thing that was annoying him the most was that this was a 19 year-old girl. He had dealt with way more experienced and definitely way more dangerous people his entire life –let alone the last nineteen years- than this girl ever had, and none of them had kept such attitude towards him. But then again, he had never made this kind of deal before. Not involving six kids, and not involving the entire mess that came with these particular six kids.

He had cornered them as far as he had dared, and he had expected that at some point the kids would sort of fight him back, but he hadn't expected to be wondering why Maria was being able to corner him so well. He knew that he was too close to a breaking point if he kept pushing them, and that at this particular moment if he imposed himself –as he would normally do with those other more experienced and more dangerous people- he could snap the fragile trust these kids had slowly built towards this deal. So he had to restrain himself from pointing out exactly how many things he could do if he truly wanted to make their lives miserable just for the sake of keeping them here.

Not that it hadn't crossed his mind. But his long term plan –heck, not even his short term plan- wouldn't work if he had them here out of fear and against their will. It wouldn't do to have them jumping at shadows and not focusing on what was important. It would be a complete mess if they were constantly thinking something bad was happening or that one of them was being threatened. Granted, he had manipulated them through fear, he would never deny that, but nothing he had told them had been a lie, not even an exaggeration. They knew exactly what was awaiting them out there, and they knew exactly how far anyone would go to get them. He had only given them a brief real life taste, and a tame one at that.

But if they wanted more details, they could always turn and ask Max.

Maria's words echoed in his mind as he recalled for a second what they had covered so far in the past two hours. He had known, of course, a lot of what had happened there because of what Agent Wilson had told him, but it was different when the story was told from the other side. It always was different. As Ray was fond of saying, "there is her version, his version, and the truth," but he somehow trusted Max's blur of memories more than the minute to minute detailed description of Pierce's Medical Technician.

He closed his eyes and let go an annoyed sigh. If something truly gave him a headache, it was Pierce and his Unit, one that he had to slowly and meticulously disband. One of those many messy things attached to the kids, but one that he was partially happy to comply. Anything that had to do with disbanding anything related to a US government organization made him happy, but Pierce's actions against Max… If only Pierce were alive so Dave could make his life fall to pieces… The galactic set of problems that needed to be solved because of Pierce had made Dave lose sleep on more than one occasion. And Dave _rarely_ ever lost sleep over anything.

Dave cleared his mind. He had already traced a plan to deal with all this, so there was no point in going back to ground zero and how to proceed with this particular problem. And speaking of problems, something caught his eye on the tiny monitor. Just as his subroutine was finishing checking how much money had already been stolen, he saw that his first installed program to divert phantom money was being changed.

"What the hell?" he said to himself, frowning. Someone was messing with his codes, right before his eyes.

It was impossible.

It was ridiculous.

But as if it were a mockery, he was seeing how his precious codes were being changed. Codes that would be categorized as Level Five codes if they belonged to this facility. And someone was messing with them as easily as if he or she were himself. This was most definitely _not_ Millini. He narrowed his eyes. _"You…"_ Dave said out loud, almost hissing, recalling Wednesday's encounter with whoever had been trying to mess with real Level Five codes. The only difference was that the compound's codes were within a labyrinth of other Level Five codes. The one Dave had just implemented was not. If this person could get pass the labyrinth in here, he or she would wreak havoc, being just a step from getting his precious Level Six codes.

Dave needed a computer. Fast. His eyes flashed to the door, and then back to his G.E.S. There was no way he would end his interview with Maria. He wouldn't have time to reschedule it for at least another month. He contemplated for a second if he could enter that room, open his computer, and completely ignore her.

_Calm yourself down._ He got a hold of his very bruised pride and reassessed his priorities again. This was one outside Level Five code being compromised, not a direct attack to this compound. Still, measures needed to be taken. Reaching for his cell phone, he made a decision.

"Who is this?" a suspicious voice answered at the other end of the conversation.

"Jeremy, I have a Level Five breach and I need your help," Dave stated, not bothering with identifying himself. All cell phones and land lines in this place were monitored by Network Keepers, and when Jeremy had seen this "private" number appear on his caller ID, the list of suspects would have been a _very_ narrow one.

Five seconds went by without a sound. Granted, the kid could have had a heart attack at hearing the voice of the guy he had been chasing since he had been 15, but… Jeremy was barely 24 now… surely his heart could take the shock. "Jeremy, _now_," Dave pressed.

"What do you need me to do?" came Jeremy's voice, sharp and alert. Yes, Jeremy was fun to play cat and mouse with, but when things got serious, Dave knew that this young man knew his way around Level Five codes. It was only that Jeremy was not as fast and creative as whoever was trashing his codes right now. It didn't matter. Once he hung up he was certain all his 12 stationed Network Keepers would get to the task.

"I'm sending you the information right now via your G.E.S. but what I need you to do is to shut down his access any way you can. He'll try to piggy back into our signal while you are at it, tracing us here, so make sure that doesn't happen either. I'll take care of this in about—" he glanced at his watch, "two hours. If for any reason you can't cut him off, shut all ports here and alert all other facilities to do the same. I don't care what he finds out in the meantime as long as he can't get access to this or any other place, understood?"

"Yes, of course. I won't let him anywhere near us," Jeremy answered, a certain pride in his voice. There was plenty of information this unknown hacker could get without even touching any of his sensitive projects, and plenty of money he could steal as well. Dave didn't even want to think what he would find two hours later if Jeremy and company hadn't been able to stop him. Or her.

"I know you'll do your best," and with that, Dave hung up.

So much for trying to return with a clear, calm mind, he mused as he reluctantly logged off. Now more than ever, he really didn't want to enter that room and get tangled with the winds of the hurricane that was still very much going strong in there. He had been out for 16 minutes and 24 seconds now. An idea crossed his mind then: _Why Maria, you have had plenty of time to be snooping around…_ And he wasn't sure if he should worry about that too or not.

* * *

If everything were really measured by the first impression, then everyone would have been worshipping Danielle Bijou. But when it came to the _second_ impression, perception would play a very funny trick… if only anyone would stop to think about it to actually find it funny.

When Michael Guerin finally arrived at the kitchen area, he was stopped in his tracks by the woman standing in front of the massive chrome-like metal fridge, just some 12 feet from where he was. She was _beautiful_ by many men's standards, and Michael would have had to agree. It wasn't just her straight light-brown, waist long, shinning hair, or the thin, perfectly chiseled face, nor the slightly tanned white skin. No, not even the big, almond-shaped, hazel-bluish eyes, or the tall, cat-like, slender body. No, what made Danielle Bijou _beautiful_ was how all those things were combined together. How it all perfectly matched. How her hair would move so gracefully, as her perfectly symmetrical face turned, those deep, knowing eyes burning into whoever was in front of her.

She _really_ was beautiful.

And then, the spell was broken.

The funny thing was, few men would really understand that the spell was broken after the first three seconds of contemplating Danielle had dissolved into the French cook's first glacial glare. The one look that was trained to measure men just as if she were measuring her condiments and fresh vegetables at the market. And Michael Guerin was actually among those few. He knew _exactly_ what the woman in front of him was doing, and he didn't like it.

Which, as the symmetry of the universe would have it, was exactly the same feeling Danielle Bijou had of him: She didn't like him either.

Maybe if Michael had known that she was wanted for double murder –completely and totally in self defense, even if her deceased husband's associates wouldn't think it that way- then he would have taken that glacial glare with a little more… heed, but it would have hardly done any difference as to how those two's first minute in the same room had gone.

Yet when the second minute started, her eyes moved to the White Card hanging on his neck, and something flickered in those dangerous –and beautiful- pupils. She soundlessly closed the fridge door without getting anything out and turned to walk opposite Michael's direction.

"I'm the Head Chef," she started with a French accent, not bothering to turn to look at him, "I understand you requested a banquet for six?"

Even her voice sounded beautiful… but all Michael cared was the edge of annoyance and the smidge of coldness there. She was not doing this out of the goodness of her heart, that was for sure. Some inner otherworldly sixth sense warned him that this woman was dangerous, and he half believed it right there and then, which was a mistake: he should have _completely_ believed it right there and then.

"Yeah, I need lunch for six, Italian. Spaghetti or something."

This time she did turn around, racing an eyebrow. "I see…"

It could have been his imagination, but he would have sworn the temperature had gone down some four degrees. And in the subsequent hours, it would only go colder.

In fact, in the subsequent hours, a lot of things were going to go colder, starting with Danielle's voice and ending with Michael's glares. But, during those first minutes before Michael actually got a clue of what he had really gotten himself into, they were interrupted by two men, about their mid twenties, animatedly talking, Black Cards hanging from their necks. Network Keepers.

They both stopped in their tracks as they saw Danielle and Michael in the middle of a seemingly conversation. Michael had a sense of _déjà vu_ as these two reminded him of Monk and Fly.

"Oh, company!" one of them said referring to Michael, as the other smiled with mischief on his eyes.

"Le genre stupide,**" **Danielle said in French, glaring at them and then turning around, walking to the other side of the kitchen where more fridges were waiting.

"Oh, don't you just love it when she insults you in that darn language of hers?" the second one said, his eyes trailing after Danielle's beautiful body, the same smile still on his lips. "It never gets old."

The first one kept his eyes on Michael, "So… Martin… Melvin… Michael! Michael, right?"

Michael nodded. For one glorious minute –or two- things were improving for Michael with Network Keepers around… Maybe, just maybe, one –or both- would be willing to let things out in the air as Jeremy had yesterday's morning at the Gym.

"White Card, uh? Impressive," the first one said. "Now, if you have as much brains as your Color Card suggests, then I'll give you just four words of advice here: One, never mess up with her knives. Two, the less you say, the better her food is going to taste; three, don't answer her when she talks to you in French; and four," he said, lowering his voice so Danielle –who was behind the big chrome like fridge door at the far end- couldn't hear him, "never, _ever_, mess with her food."

Before an hour had passed, Michael was going to do all those things. Twice.

"You must _really_ want her food if you are here on a Friday morning," the second Network Keeper whispered as well, passing a hand over Michael's shoulder. Michael tensed at the sudden embrace, but kept it to himself in hopes of gaining some trust bonding. Hope that would die soon enough.

"What do you mean?" Michael asked, frowning, his voice low.

"She's the Head Chef and so she has to prepare tomorrow's menu. Saturday's are always special," his embracing partner said, "which means she's bitchier than usual…" A statement onto itself, though Michael was not really going to be aware of that until a couple of hours later.

"Or so we have been told," the first one said on a clearer tone, glancing at his watch. "We better keep going if we want to make it on time."

Michael frowned even deeper. Weren't they going to be around here, helping him pass the time around this Danielle person whose glares were going to give him goosebumps in about twenty minutes?

"I thought you were coming to the kitchen…" he trailed. He _had_ been around the kitchens –there were three, and this was the first- on Tuesday morning. He had heard all about community service or whatever, so he had been fairly sure these two Geeks were going to help out here.

"Are you nuts?" the second one said, looking at him as if he had said something stupid –a look that he would soon get used to with Danielle around- and both Keepers shook their heads. "We're going to the next kitchen. This place is a war zone with Danielle around here, especially when she's not alone in her kitchen."

Now, that statement was a bit exaggerated. After all, _war_ for Danielle had an entirely different meaning, especially while competing against other chefs, and Michael would hardly qualify as one in her league. Besides, _war_ had been exactly what had brought the best on her on that night when she had unknowingly been serving Dave.

Oh, the Fates that had worked then were probably having a good laugh now that they had joined such forces of nature as Danielle Bijou and Michael Guerin in the same kitchen –of all places- and though it wouldn't last, both had very good reasons to make it through the morning and the cooking process.

Michael thought about Maria as Danielle closed the door and glared at the Net Geeks scurrying past her to the next kitchen. She turned around to one of the drawers, opened it, and started arranging her very sharp and very professional looking knives on the table.

"So," Michael said after taking a deep breath, "Spaghetti, and a salad. I can manage the beverages and stuff."

"_Stuff_," Danielle repeated, cold.

"Yeah…" Michael frowned, suddenly unsure around this woman. "I'll do the cake too."

"Are you serious?" she asked, half indignant and half shocked, as if Michael couldn't do that simple task.

"Of course I am." He said, half indignant, and half annoyed.

Dave had _assured_ him that Danielle was the perfect person to give him the perfect birthday lunch he so wanted to give the girl of his life, but he was dead certain that _he_ was going to bake the cake. That was one of his goals for this day, and he was going to be damned if he couldn't at least do that. And though hell awaited him –partially unknowingly to him- he _was_ going to finish all his goals that day… one way or another.

He remembered briefly Courtney asking him what a chick had to do for him to make a cake, and he had wasted no time telling her that it wasn't something she could handle. Ha! The day he referred to either Maria or Isabel as a "chick" was the day he was in for a long rant. And he would know… he had gotten long rants for less –even if it was his entire right to say whatever he wanted and he was making no apology for being who he was. Still, as the warrior he had once been and the one he sort of was now, he knew the value of choosing his battles well. And arguing over calling Maria –or Isabel- a chick was high in his priorities of battles to avoid.

But, whatever it was that a "chick" had to do to make him bake a cake was something big, Michael knew, when Danielle finally blinked as if perplexed, her perfectly shaped eyes wanting to ignite him or something, her hands taking a knife each.

"Listen, and listen carefully," her French accented voice would have frozen a candle right there and then. "You want a banquet for six, I want to get rid of you. I'll give you your Italian, and your salad, and you'll stay quiet." She sharpened one knife with the other, the sound reminding Michael of some scene in _Braveheart_.

It seemed like a rational proposal… from Danielle's point of view, of course. Michael's ability to choose his battles well fled the door, though. Partly because not so deep down he was worrying about Maria, which was making him jumpier than usual, and partly because he was being treated as if he was a five year old. And Michael Guerin could only take so much when it came to take orders. One only had to ask Max about that.

And as Max would also tell, Michael had a tendency to… _snap_ when things reached his boiling point.

"Hey! I'm not some idiot who doesn't know how to cook, okay? I've worked cooking before, and I know what I want." He had a point…well, sort of. And when Danielle pierced him once again with those eyes that seemed able to burn holes, he… well, he got really defensive.

"It's not as if cooking some pasta and adding some sauce is a big deal." Someone, in the very distant future, was going to tell him to never argue with a cook, about cooking, when said cook was holding a knife in his hand… let alone two.

She stopped in midair, the blades reflecting the light in sharp angles. And Michael was _almost_ afraid, but his annoyance at this woman's disposition blinded every thought. What the hell was wrong with her? Had he taken the time to find out, he might have found curious that she was thinking exactly the same thing: What the hell was wrong with _him_?

Her eyes darted for one fleeting instant to his White Card, and very slowly she finished sharpening one knife with the other, the sound being almost musical in the tense silence that followed Michael's statement. He was sure she was going to say something about not cooking for him, and part of him was more than willing to cook the whole thing for Maria himself, _but…_ he did want a special meal, something that tasted different than everyday food. And by now Maria knew every single flavor he could conjure from food on the road.

She muttered something in French. He couldn't have cared any less.

"You'll find all the ingredients I'll need in the next kitchen," she said, the knives slowly reaching each other's tip. "So you better make yourself useful."

Once again, she turned her back to him, this time to open the upper shelves, bottles of condiments starting to fill the table where the knives were.

"How am I supposed to know what you need?" Michael asked, confused.

"My, my," she said, her eyes on her condiments on the upper shelf, her voice a mockery to a sweet tone. "It's just pasta and sauce. I'm sure you can figure it out."

If Michael had stopped for a second and tried to have an insight, he would have concluded that she was plain and simply tactless. The fun thing would have been, though, that if one searched for the word in the dictionary, her picture could have been illustrating the definition... hers or Michael's, depending on the version.

And so, a mostly silent, hardly companionable, cooking session began. After all, just about when Michael was going to say something about her being snobby and him not taking that kind of crap, something made Michael shut up and stare blankly ahead. Because he had been concentrating as much as he had dared on sensing Maria, and so his entire being was more aware than ever, something at the back of his mind suddenly went… _off._

He shook the sensation as quickly as it came, though he suddenly felt anxious about Max. Yet just before he could really think about it, Maria's fiery spirit came through, making Michael smile inwardly at the thought that Dave was definitely _not _having it easy. It made Michael proud, and he momentarily forgot his retort. So, he had to compromise. He could do that. Sort of.

He did figure out what Danielle wanted for her cooking... after his fifth going and coming to the next kitchen, that was –where everyone was having a good time and looking at him with pitying eyes. He had almost dropped it all to the floor and turned the hell out of there when he had returned the first time with what he would have used, just to have Danielle telling him he couldn't really expect her to cook anything with such disappointing ingredients, but by then whatever she was cooking smelled just plain heavenly. And she had done so with barely any ingredients at all.

He almost yelled at her when she poured a generous dose of cream into the sauce. He actually got as far as opening his mouth, getting some air, his face indignant, just to have Maria's force coming through yet again, and he knew then that she deserved every bit of everything and anything he could manage. Even if it involved swallowing his pride for just a couple of hours… and having cream on his sauce.

The resolution died about five minutes later.

He took to the task of cutting vegetables for the salad, and nothing looked sharper in that room than Danielle's knives. So he absently took one and started cutting the freshly washed potatoes as she continued preparing the salsa. A second knife cut clean through the potato as soon as he started with the first one, effectively pinning it to the cutting table. Fine, white, long fingers held the knife, and if Michael had been able to look closer, he would have seen the cuts and scars that years of cooking and cutting had left on Danielle's skin.

"Not with my knives."

Michael had been "this close" of instinctively reacting to Danielle's knife in front of him with a blast of his own. And though he hadn't seen it, he had felt the sparking green electricity just beneath the surface. His response out loud, however, was automatic as he voiced his first thought.

"Are you nuts?!"

Yes. When it came to Danielle's knives –and cooking in general, but especially _her_ knives- she was nuts.

She just glared for a second at him, and with practice ease removed the knife from the table, leaving the potato behind.

"You just can't go pinning knives in front of people's faces!" Michael said when Danielle resumed adding spices to the sauce. She didn't answer him. Didn't even look at him. In fact, for the next ten minutes, she didn't even seem to know he was there.

The temperature kept getting colder.

Water boiled beside him a lot faster than it should have as he finished cutting the potatoes, his mood the darkest it had been since… well, probably since last night when he was talking to Maria about her interview.

Before Michael noticed, she had half a dozen burners going on, different things bubbling around. Of course, it finally dawned on him, she was cooking for tomorrow's menu as well. Hadn't the Net Geek said that earlier? That she was bitchier than usual because it was Friday morning?

She kept disappearing into the other kitchen, her mind definitely set on her work, and for that Michael was glad. He could bake his cake in peace. Or at least try to. But his blood boiled as he saw that Danielle had started baking a cake as well some fifteen minutes afterwards.

"Look, I can do the stupid cake—"

It was the first time since she had taken her knives out of his reach that she turned to look at him, glacial voice matching glacial look. "You are _not_ making this cake. It's not for you or yours." Michael frowned, and the silence kept stretching.

The thing he would never, _ever_ admit in the years to come, was that he actually paid attention to what Danielle was doing in order to get his cake right. Sure, he had memorized the recipe a month ago, but still… Isabel hadn't complained about her cake –well, not too much, really- back in the day, and he _had_ baked one or two cakes afterwards at the Crashdown's kitchen, but he had never really baked one worthy of this occasion… and the smells starting to mix in the air were making his mouth water.

He wanted to make lemonade. Lemons were pilling around as Danielle cut them and sprayed lemon juice here and there, and the idea sort of stuck in his mind. He liked lemons, a _lot_, and the light green variety that was in front of him made him think of Maria's eyes.

Maria had gotten calmer too… Not too many outbursts coming his direction now and that made Michael nervous. _More _nervous, that was. At least he wasn't feeling anything he was dreading to, and so he absently took the closest knife he had at hand to start cutting his lemon.

This time the knife stabbed thin air as it pinned itself half an inch away of Michael's left hand, as his right hand was stretched out reaching for the lemon.

"What is it with you Americans? Everything has to be spelled out for you?"

_Well, technically, I'm _not_ an American,_ Michael stupidly thought for a very short-lived second as he felt his fingertips tingling, barely restraining the impulse to blast the darn knife out of his sight. Beside him, more water boiled.

"Would you quit doing that?!" Michael all but shouted at the woman in front of him.

"Avec tout ce que j'ai eu à supporter, on m'envoie en plus un idiot! Aujourd'hui!"

Michael had no idea what Danielle had said, but he didn't like it. It looked as if she was talking more to herself and the heavens than to him, but that did nothing to appease his anger.

"Stick to damn English, will you?!" It was infuriating to have someone yelling incomprehensible things at him, especially since he couldn't defend himself… and he couldn't storm out of there either.

"C'est _ma_ cuisine et je dirai ce que je veux, dans la langue qu'il me plaira, tout le temps que j'y serai!"

"Just because you are the damn Head Chef or whatever the hell, it doesn't give you the right to stab knives and insult people!"

He figured she needed to hear that, and that, well, what the hell, he needed to say that too.

"Oh, tu es si brilliant, Carte Blanche," Danielle said with disdain, but Michael didn't pay attention to that. He had been struck with one word: _Brilliant_

The flash he had gotten yesterday afternoon at the Administrator's office, that Richard man, came more vividly to him than ever before. _Brilliant,_the word echoed in his mind, as a younger Richard went through the file. The file that now Michael understood was in French, making it impossible for him to understand a word of it, and making it the hardest for Michael to be able to focus on the flash as well.

That didn't stop Michael for understanding what Richard was thinking, though, since the guy was British, and his thoughts were going in English as he was simultaneously translating the French file in his mind.

Richard had been chasing Dave, and what Michael had gotten a glimpse of had been the first time Richard had sat down to read Dave's file. "un gosse _brilliant_"automatically translated into "a _brilliant_ kid", which was how the file had started, and the word had stuck in Richard's mind through the entire file. David –and not _Dave­-_ had been part of some obscure secret from the Cold War days that the Americans didn't want his Allies to know about, but 19 year old David was now on the lose, his mind full of secrets that could easily give the advantage to the other side, especially now that everyone was desperate for one final blow to the Russians.

And then there was that tiny elusive piece of the flash where Richard was seeing, face to face, a slightly older David, both men knowing this was the end of the chase, though at some point between the file reading and this meeting, Richard had become the hunted… and Dave had won.

"You just stay away from my cuisine," Danielle's icy voice came through, returning Michael to the here and now, the French accented words still making the flash linger at the back of his mind.

And at the back of his mind it stayed for the next couple of hours as he set to bake his cake, silence descending once more in the kitchen. He made a point of staying away from Danielle's knives, the smells around him making him think that, after all, this was worth it.

And though he kept returning to what he had seen, trying to focus more fiercely on what else Richard was reading, what else Richard had learned in that file, he found that baking a cake was really not all that easy… especially when he caught sight of Danielle's disapproving glances from time to time.

"Next year," Michael murmured to himself, "I'm buying Maria this stupid thing…"

Though, to be truthful, the next year -and all the years afterwards- he kept baking Maria her birthday cake... and he _really_ got good at it too.

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**Author's Notes:** the parts in bold are the original French lines ;)

**From Maria's part back in chapter 29:**

"**Are you sure?**" the words came muffled again. She _was_ fairly certain it was French, and the words sort of rang a bell on her memory. Something like "are you correct?" He kept talking, and she kept listening… and frowning too. It didn't help matters that she was listening to half the conversation. Why couldn't he be talking in Spanish?! She would have had more luck with that…

"**No, no, it has to be done immediately. I'll take care of it,**" Dave sounded closer, and she had no clue about what he had just said, except that he sounded too serious for her liking. "**No, I won't cut my vacation short for that!" **Maria frowned deeper. **Vacation** was a word she actually understood: Vacation. Well, he had said to Liz he was on vacation, hadn't he? Dave sounded farther now. Was he pacing?

"**No, I don't care…" **Dave continued, making Maria sighed in frustration. _What_ was he saying, for crying out loud?! "**It won't take him long, I know, but it won't take **_**me**_** long either."** Okay, so Dave was talking about a him? Something about time? Oh, stupid language, she cursed as she glared at the door. Dave must have walked further because now Maria didn't hear a thing.

"**Yes, I **_**know,**_" Dave's words came loud and clear almost at the other side of the door making Maria jump an inch. "Yes, I know", she understood that last sentence. "**No, not on my birthday,"** Dave kept saying, his words sounding distant again. He definitely sounded as if he were pacing. And what had that been? _**Birthday?**_Didn't that mean "Birthday"? What, he was talking about her? Maria pressed harder against the door, her eyes narrowing, going to the numbers on the wall.

**From Michael's part in chapter 30:**

"Oh, company!" one of them said referring to Michael, as the other smiled with mischief on his eyes.

"**Yeah, the stupid kind," **Danielle said in French, glaring at them and then turning around, walking to the other side of the kitchen where more fridges were waiting.

-----

"Would you quit doing that?!" Michael all but shout at the woman in front of him.

"**Oh, of all the things I have had to put up, I was also sent an idiot! On **_**this**_** day!"**

Michael had no idea what Danielle had said, but he didn't like it. It looked as if she was talking more to herself and the heavens than to him, but that did nothing to appease his anger.

"Stick to damn English, will you?!" It was infuriating to have someone yelling incomprehensible things at him, especially since he couldn't defend himself… and he couldn't storm out of there either.

"**It's **_**my**_** kitchen, and I'll say whatever the hell I want on whatever language I please while I'm here!"**

"Just because you are the damn Head Chef or whatever the hell, it doesn't give you the right to stab knives and insult people!"

He figured she needed to hear that, and that, well, what the hell, he needed to say that too.

"**Oh, aren't you so brilliant, you White Card," **Danielle said with disdain, but Michael didn't pay attention to that. He had been struck with one word: **Brilliant.**


	32. Background pt 1

Thanks for coming back to read!! I'm so sorry for the long delays, but if you are wondering in the future if I'm going to post soon, you can check out my profile. There's a link to another board where I post Author Notes, so you can know what's going on. You can also find there a sketch of the compound's map, if you are interested to see where everything is ;)

This is the first part of chapter 31. Hopefully, the next part will be up before this month ends.

Thanks to everyone who reviewed! And thank you all very much for waiting for each part!

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XXXI**

**Background**

"You really expect me to believe all you took was one single blood test?" Liz's voice sounded cold even to herself, but she didn't care. She had a warning bell ringing at the back of her mind reminding her that she _had_ to be careful with what she said and how she said it, but Jake hardly looked intimidating, and they were discussing very sensitive things.

Beside her, Max didn't even stir, though the constant flow of his energy around the room was still reflected in the screen, and it was well felt through her connection. Still, now that her own emotions were turning into a rather rebellious and indignant stance, she was getting a low but distinctive uneasiness forming from Max's side.

Jake didn't lower his eyes to her, but slightly narrowed them, as if considering something.

"What do you think Dave wants?" Jake asked, his voice serious. For one second Liz thought that Jake wanted to divert the conversation, distract her mind of the topics they were discussing. Yet he was too focused on this, like he wasn't backing up, just taking another angle.

Or maybe he just knew that she didn't want to answer that question, at least not truthfully, and certainly not openly.

"He… he wants to know how their powers work," she almost added a "right?" at the end of the sentence, but it would have sounded too doubtful. And she didn't want to sound anything but confident right now.

Jake kept looking at her for two more seconds, and then he lowered his eyes, slightly letting go a smile.

"You know it's something else," she stated, her hand unconsciously holding Max's harder.

"Some ten years ago," Jake said, turning to look at the screen at his right side, a slightly vacant expression on his face, "I used to live nearby a sports bike store. And once or twice a week, I would always see this girl, this young woman really, standing in front of the glass, intently watching. It didn't matter if the displayed bike changed, she would just stay there for some ten minutes, and then she would continue."

"What does this have to do with Dave or Max?" Liz asked, rather rudely she would think later, but a creepy feeling had been crawling at the back of her neck for the past few minutes. What if the screen started showing something coming from her, even if Max's energy was covering her entire body? She suddenly started to feel _vulnerable_.

"Why do you think the girl was stopping there?" Jake asked, as if Liz hadn't said a word. He turned to look at her, emotions briefly conflicting behind his eyes. Yet he offered her a warm small smile, as if almost telling her to indulge him in this question.

"Because she wanted a bike?" Liz finally said, going for the obvious answer, which was exactly what Jake was expecting anyways.

"I thought that too," he admitted, his small smile getting a bit broader. "I happened to meet her by chance one afternoon, though. It turned out she was an interior designer. She had no interest whatsoever on bikes, at least not a personal one, but the store was one of her clients. So, you see, she had never wanted a bike, she was always checking the background."

Two seconds went by as Liz waited for Jake to continue, but when he didn't say anything else, she frowned.

"What do you mean? That Dave is not after the obvious?" Liz asked, tensing, unsure. She didn't like to be unsure, especially not in Dave-Max related matters.

"I think you should see that there's more than just what's on display going on here. There's a lot of background to pay attention to."

"So you're saying he's not into their powers?" Liz said, eyebrows upwards, disbelief written all over her face, on a fairly good imitation of Michael's sarcastic tone, though she wasn't really aware of it. Seven months living together, things were bound to rub in.

Jake took a second to answer, almost as if he were thinking through every word and its possible consequence. "Not exactly. I think you should take to consideration that there might be other… interests besides the obvious one, and way beyond the dark places where your thoughts are taking you."

She was just about to argue that he and Dave had taken three days of their lives; that they had played with their darkest ideas, had twisted situations, and had altogether scared the hell out of them, but Jake's eyes were regarding Max with a mix of warmth and… sorrow? That made her hold her tongue just one second longer so Jake still got to keep talking.

"I know what's out there, Liz," Jake said, barely above a whisper. "I don't have to imagine it. I've seen more than just written reports, like Dave has, and way more than just twenty four hours, like Max so unfortunately experienced. When I said that what I did was for your own good, I meant it."

A shiver ran down her spine. On the screen, Max's energy started to get tighter, and flow just a bit faster. What—_Who_ was the man in front of her? Who was this Dr. Jake?

"I knew it was risky at best to go with Dave's plan…" Jake paused, apparently searching for the best explanation, "I also knew it was bound to have trust issues to put it mildly, of course, but he had a very good reason to want to scare you the way he did."

"We're not children, you know?" Liz said, barely holding her outrage. A _good_ reason? _Please!_ "He could have talked to us, we would have understood!"

"You would have thought you still had a better choice out there," Jake said calmly, way too calmed for Liz's like. On the corner of her eye, she saw that Max's energy was starting to take a bluish tone on the screen, but her mind was more preoccupied on the man in front of her than the colors showing there.

"You don't know that," she retorted. What was up with Dave and now Jake being so sure they would have said "no"? Granted, she didn't know either what they would have done if Dave had just presented one day and offered his deal, but still…

Jake sighed in a very wary and tired manner, as if he hadn't been sleeping much lately.

"Why did you return, Liz?" Jake's question came out of the blue. "You were already on the road, for all you knew your only real chance to escape… and yet you turned around twelve hours later and came back, trusting Dave's word. Why?"

_Because we wanted to believe Dave. Because we wanted to stop running._ Liz's thoughts returned to the car where the six of them had been discussing what to do on that night where they had been "set free" from the warehouse. How Michael had been so sure this was the worst idea ever. How had she pushed for logic on the fact that Dave's tactics could only mean that he was intending to back up his offer. Dave had gone to so much trouble, so much _detail_ to prove his point…

"We already know what awaits us with the Special Unit. We already knew we couldn't keep running indefinitely… and Dave had just… brought the point home, I guess." _Oh, and I lost the power to see into the future, so we were doomed from that moment on… No way to keep escaping then… Talk about the lesser of two evils…_ It was so ironic to be thinking that while being under Jake's special lens. Her uneasiness grew. She wondered if the screen would show anything unusual about her if Max's energy disappeared.

"But if you didn't want to keep running… What if Dave had never appeared, then? Would you have given into the Special Unit eventually?"

Liz's eyes went wide with fear at the thought of Max just given up to the FBI. Those glimpses she had gotten that night in that deserted van in the middle of nowhere… the haunted look in Max's eyes, the way his body had been trembling, knowing it hardly had anything to do with being soaked in cold water… She almost imperceptibly shook her head no.

"You see," Jake said, leaning all the way back on his couch, "there are risks you are willing to take without fully knowing the ending, all the variables, just some facts… And there are _other_ risks that are just not acceptable. I was afraid that you losing three days would actually fall into the unacceptable category, but Dave assured me why you would come back." He looked intently at Max, and Liz did the same as if expecting Max waking up, but nothing had changed on her husband's posture.

"Now I have to deal with the fact that you don't believe me about what happened on those three days. That's why I need you to look beyond the obvious."

He turned to look at the screen, just as intently as he had been looking at Max.

"It just doesn't make sense," Liz said, trying to start over. _Just a blood test_ didn't sound right, at all. "You had in your power three half aliens, for three days… You must have done so much more than just a blood test!" Her scientific mind just wouldn't take any other approach. Wasn't she always half-teasing, half-asking Max about his powers? She never got tired of seeing him using them. And at the back of her mind, she was always wondering what was happening inside Max, what was making it… _work._

And then she had gotten her own powers, and she would spend hours watching herself in the mirror, searching for something different, something _other, _sometimes fearing it, sometimes marveling at it And just as with Max, there was nothing else, nothing on the surface at least to be seen.

A ghost of a smile appeared on Jake's face, almost as if he were laughing at some inner thought.

"It was never a matter of… getting their blood." Jake returned to his previous position, leaning forward on the couch, his eyes now piercing at hers. "I already have the files Meta-Chem had… and the ones from the Special Unit."

A chill ran down Liz's spine. She instinctually reached through her connection for Max. He wasn't feeling so calm anymore, but she was reassured he was fine on the moment that it took her to check for him as images of the flashbacks she had gotten from Max after his rescue returned to her mind.

"Three days of tests for some factual data, cell storage, and with a very wild imagination and a leap of faith, future genetic experiments, was not what I had in mind, Liz. You had to lose three days for Dave's plan to work, and I had to make sure you were okay. That's why I did the blood tests. And that's exactly why I didn't do anything else: I didn't need to…"

Jake trailed off, and for second Liz almost, _almost_ said with indignant outrage that he had done way more than just a blood test. He had willingly participated on their kidnapping, not to mention that she had woken up on clothes she had been wearing the last time she had been awake, something she really didn't want to think all that much. She felt trapped. On the screen, Max's energy was condensing, now occupying barely half of the space it had in the beginning, but neither Liz nor Jake noticed.

"You didn't have any right." At the bottom of things, that was really what this was all about, Liz knew, because Jake –and Dave- had taken advantage of everything they could.

Jake closed his eyes as if regretting something, and then he opened them, looking at the table in the middle, Maria's present looking rather out of place considering what they were discussing. "I've seen so much pain in my lifetime…" he said with a far away look that transcended the square wrapped package. "And then out of nowhere Dave found these three, scared, hunted kids, with these amazing qualities that guaranteed no normal life…"

For an instant, Liz found herself on an empty room, miles away, ages ago, talking to a "friends-plus" Max about how he had gotten cheated in life. About why he was not allowed to take off and leave to Sweden. About how his life was so different from hers from the get-go. About how it _guarantee_ no normal life.

"I know what… _uniqueness_ can do to your life, Liz," Jake was saying, but as she looked at him, she really felt angry at all these men, all these organizations that just burdened Max, hunted him for being just him. And to put the final touch, he was destined to a life he wasn't even really aware of, memories so buried in his mind they didn't even matter, a world light years away waiting for someone who couldn't even remember why he should go back in the first place. The whole thing was so_ unfair. _

"So tell me," Liz said, her eyes hard on Jake, trying to keep in sight what this was about, "after all this talk, tell me what's on the background, then. What am I not seeing?"

"I thought it was going to be obvious by now," Jake said with half a smile. Liz just arched an eyebrow. On the forgotten screen Max's energy swirled tighter and tighter, less than 1/4 of the room now lit brightly in whites, blues, and light-blues.

"He offered you protection in exchange of cooperation. You think he wants only the cooperation part. What if he also wants to protect you?"

_Cooperation,_ how lightly.

"Why wouldn't he say so then?" she said, frustration dripping from her voice, tired of trying to get out of this circle of finding what was on the background or why should she believe there was a background to begin with.

"Because it would sound too convenient," Jake patiently answered her. "Because if by some twisted design he really doesn't even care about the cooperation part and only the protection, then you wouldn't trust him to be telling the truth."

_The truth?! _After all he had done, _trust him_? There was only so much she could take right this moment.

"You kidnapped us! Drugged us! Trapped us on those awful rooms!" she all but shouted.

"And I would do it again, right now, if it meant buying you one more week of life!" Jake's answer came just as avid, as if something had snapped on that calm of his, trying to make her see that he really cared. The funny thing was that… she actually believed him.

But just before that thought could sink in, or that Jake had the time to explain himself, right between the two of them Max's energy finally collided into one dense, green, energy shield that made them both stopped dead on their tracks. Jake's face looked distorted, almost jello-like, as his eyes went as wide as hers in surprise. She recovered quicker than he did -though, to his credit, he had never seen Max's shield before- and turned to look at Max. Had he awaken to their almost-yelling and had thought she was in danger?

Max wasn't awake… yet. He was slightly frowning, and his eyes were moving beneath his eyelids, his breathing increasing. The flow of his energy through their connection shifted slightly as he was retreating to himself while he was gaining consciousness. Finally, he slowly opened his eyes, coming from a very deep sleep. In front of him, his shield dissolved without him really noticing it, leaving a still stunned Jake staring at him, though this Liz barely noticed by the corner of her eye.

"I had the weirdest dream…" Max began, automatically searching for her as he would have done had he awoken on their bed. The realization that they were anywhere _but_ their bed hit him hard as he looked past her, his eyes now just as shocked as Jake's as recognition dawned on him. "What are you _doing_ here?!" he asked her, quite frankly terrified, as they both turned to look in front of them at Jake, and a second later they turned to look at the screen.

And a second later, the screen exploded.


	33. Background pt 2

Thanks for coming back to read!! Chapter 32 is already in the works, and I'll probably end up posting it in parts again... It's a very long chapter... Anyway, thank you so much for the reviews!!

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XXXI

Background

_cont._

The cracks in the window made Maria stop her search. How long had it been now? Ten, fifteen minutes? But there was something mesmerizing about the way the glass was shattered in such tiny fragments, that when she had turned to look out the window thinking someone was out there, she had just stopped and stared at it.

Here was testimony of Michael's power, but it was also a testimony of his frustration with this whole situation. And here she was too, trying to make things better by understanding this man and his motives beyond any shadow of a doubt. Not that she had made much progress, but she wasn't exactly expecting the guy to have a secret number scribbled on a piece of paper in his trash can.

Not that she hadn't checked.

When she had left the door and had made a beeline to the desk around ten minutes before, she had been a little bit surprised that every single drawer was unlocked. Granted, there weren't many places to go looking either, but at least she had been able to take a look everywhere.

It only had five drawers in total, two on each side and one in the middle, and she had wasted no time starting with the first one on her left. Glancing every two seconds to the door, half of her mind thinking what she would do if Dave suddenly entered, she had been momentarily taken aback when the first thing that had greeted her was a rather big, colorful "HAPPY BIRTHDAY!" card at the top of the drawer.

For one terrifying second she had thought that Dave had planned this, planned on leaving the room, and had left the card there to mock her intention of discovering something about himself. It was _her_ birthday after all, though for the past two hours it had been a fact that neither of them had talked about.

It was _his_ birthday too, Maria had finally understood, as she had read in small, neat handwriting "_getting closer to the 40's?_". Her eyes had wandered for a moment on the puzzle. Dave had told Kyle this was an early birthday present, so his birthday had probably been some day earlier this week.

Her heart had started beating again.

Under the card had been a stock of white blank paper sheets, some pencils rolling around, highlighters, office stuff… useless. She had closed it, glancing at the door. She couldn't hear Dave from here, but that didn't stop her from opening the middle drawer.

A closed, black, very modern looking notebook computer was kept in there. A computer that would most certainly hold this man's secrets, plans, projects. _Everything._ What were the chances of her getting it out, hiding it, finishing this interview, taking it out of this office, and opening it in her apartment for _someone_ to be able to crack into the system? Maybe he didn't even have a password.

_Sure_…

She had closed the drawer with a frustrated grunt and had continued with the right top drawer. _So close yet so far away…_ she had cursed under her breath. She had cursed yet again as the next drawer contained yet more paper sheets, more pencils, more highlighters, more office stuff. What was up with this guy and office stuff, anyway?! And just before she had closed it –glancing yet again to the door- she had heard a muffled sound coming from the drawer. Looking inside more thoroughly, underneath half the stock of paper, was an asthma inhaler.

Isabel had had a flash about this inhaler, about Dave having an asthma attack, and how Jake had scolded him for not having it with him at all times. As far as Isabel had been able to tell, Dave really hated having asthma and the inhaler was a constant reminder of his condition. Not for the first time Maria had wondered if what Dave really wanted was for Max to heal him. The thought must have at least crossed his mind, she was sure of it, but as far as Dave knew, none of them was aware of the fact that he was sick.

Besides, it would have been more logical for him to do an approach like the Meta-Chem owners, than to go through all this mess. Still… there was no guarantee Max wouldn't be asked to heal him in exchange for some other favor. There was a slight problem though: Not even Max was sure if he could heal asthma. He had never done so.

She had closed that drawer as fast as she had opened it, going next for the bottom right one. This one was big, and as she had opened it, she had finally found where all the paper sheets were going once used. There probably were more than 500 paper sheets stocked there, all written as far as she could see, in small, clear handwriting. She had taken a handful to inspect more closely.

Numbers. Row upon row of numbers and math signs and notations had met her eyes, giving her a slight headache. Had Dave been there, he would have patiently and cheerfully explained what the numbers, equations and notations meant. The first 56 pages were the formulas that NASA was stuck with on the new propulsion chemical they were trying to develop. Chemistry was not Dave's strongest point, but he was trying.

The next 43 pages were about that intriguing math problem astronomers were trying to solve about multiple dimensions. It was such a complex problem that it was taking the combined efforts of a lot of math geniuses out there to solve it. He had been hopelessly dragged in like a moth to the flame. Even if he could only anonymously help a bit to solve it, he would be a very happy math whiz if his contributions helped figure it out.

The next 124 pages were of random equations he had been sort of thinking about when the puzzle had gotten boring. Half of those he had started on the plane back from Berlin the past week, though, and the other half had been mostly done while watching Jake sleep after his allergic reaction to those nut cookies he had eaten back on Saturday, giving him an allergic reaction. When Dave's mind was racing with a million problems, math would invariably intrude at the back of his head, just like those songs that wouldn't shut up at the back of her mind and let her think straight when she was worried.

The 346 pages left in the stock were programming lines, mostly Level Five codes that needed to be reviewed or corrected, but Maria's interest hadn't gone as far as the bottom of the stack. All this Maria ignored, as page after page of math gibberish passed by her searching eyes. Though, even if she had known what they meant, she would still have found them pretty much useless.

It would have been the Holy Grail for Network Keepers.

Having closed the drawer with more force than necessary, Maria had turned yet again to the left side of the desk, her ears straining to catch the slightest movement from outside the door. Opening the last drawer, she had finally hit the jackpot.

Well, sort of.

Letter sized blueprints were stashed at the top of this drawer. She had eagerly taken the first ten or so and started looking through them, only to realize a second later that they were in German. _Great! First stupid French and now freaking German?! _It hadn't stopped her from trying to understand all the same. By the look of it, they were the blueprints of a three story building. Handwritten German notes were in various places, but those didn't match either the neat handwriting from the "Happy Birthday" card or the small handwriting from the stack of papers in the right bottom drawer. It was Ray's, just as the card's had been Jake's, though this Maria couldn't have known.

She had placed the blueprints aside and gone deeper into the pile. Photographs had rewarded her efforts, although photographs of who was a whole other matter. The backgrounds, though, had German signs on them, and as she had kept looking at picture after picture, she had realized that the pictures were as much of people as of the place itself: A three story building. Ha! Her instincts were as good as ever!

Her triumph had been short-lived, though. What good did it do her to know Dave had some interest in an old building in Germany? This was one of those moments when she wished she could get a flash from the darned pictures or whatever. Still, she went past the first twenty photographs and kept looking for something other than the German men and the street and the building.

_Bingo!_

At first, she hadn't been sure why the picture looked familiar. A satellite picture of, what she had guessed first, a road motel. And as the seconds passed by, she had realized that it was indeed a motel, and not just any motel, but the one where they had been ambushed by the FBI, just three days before Dave's men had gotten them. They had barely made it out of there in the middle of the night, losing half of their possessions, with a wounded Michael, and pretty much no hope of staying ahead of the Special Unit with Liz having lost her powers.

She had taken a second one, and a third one, all zooming in, and as she had taken a fourth picture she had found a note at the bottom: _Too close._ She frowned. Looking with more attention to the details, she had seen that there were tiny dots around the entire place. People. Or more likely, _Agents._ This picture had probably been taken some hours after the ambush had failed.

She had suddenly felt cold. They had narrowly escaped. What if they hadn't? Where would she be right now had the Special Unit gotten them? _Too close_ was definitely an uncomfortable thought at best, and an understated terrifying feeling. Too close indeed, enough to scare them out of their minds when Dave finally got them.

She had set those thoughts aside and had kept looking, her head peeking for a second over the desk, the door still as closed as the minute before. No Dave in sight, no sound around but the one she was making as she had dived yet again into the pool of pictures.

Further in, she had found the pictures of the motel where Dave's men had trapped them more than a week ago. She had gone through those faster, knowing that any second now Dave was bound to cross through that door. No notations here, just a silent movie frame by frame where she had been able to discern ambulances outside the motel arriving, staying, and then going. So that was how they had been transported, no one being the wiser.

She had gone deeper, but the pictures had changed location. German again. And deeper than that, they had changed to French; another old building, more pictures of men that didn't have anything to do with her. At least, not as far as she knew.

Before closing the drawer, she had thought for a long moment if she should take one of these pictures of their motels, and take it to Michael and the others. _She_ couldn't have flashes, but they sure could give it a try. She had decided against it, thinking that Dave could very well notice the loss without much trouble. The idea was good though, so she had stood up and opened the top drawer again, taking a worn out pencil and placing it in her right pocket.

She had closed the drawer slowly, her eyes already on the last obvious place she had yet to search through: The trash can. Which, as she had found out just two seconds later, was frustratingly empty. Way too clean for a trash can too, she had thought, wrinkling her nose. Finally standing up, she had stared at the door. It was almost unthinkable that she had gone through all those drawers with Dave being just a few feet from her. She had let go a mischievous smile. Until she had heard something outside, at her back, that had made her jump out of her skin.

Just a lonely bird on a branch.

The same lonely bird was still on the branch now as she contemplated Michael's power demonstration in the window right in front of her.

_Too close_, the words echoed in her mind, an uneasiness creeping at the back of her neck. Whatever Dave was or wanted, at least they had remained together and unharmed for the last week. _Yeah, tell that to the window,_ she absently thought, her eyes fixed on the center of all the tiny lines, where Michael's force had impacted first.

What was Michael doing now? Maria worried for a second. She teased him around and tried to ease his fears, but as she was contemplating why Michael had almost blown away the window, she let herself really fear their decision of being here. It was business, she had told herself, and that was the all clear explanation as to why Dave was going to keep true to their deal, but what did she know about this guy, really?

He liked absurdly big puzzles?

He was an asthmatic, know-it-all, multilingual, math-wise-ass, infuriating man who couldn't turn off his cell phone during an interview?

A business man, with piercing hazel eyes, a body that didn't hurt to look at, and clearly a god complex?

She arched an eyebrow in contemplation at her own thoughts, her eyes still fixed on the shattered window. He also had the confidence of a cat walking on a fence: Calculated, flawless and effortless. She guessed it was a very good trait to have if you were on his side… right now it was just annoying. He was a good listener though, the kind that made you feel comfortable enough to tell him your darkest secrets. Michael could learn a thing or two from this guy.

She snorted. True, Michael was nowhere near winning the "boyfriend of the year" award, but he usually listened to her when it really mattered. Still, picturing Michael listening intently for four hours was just, well… hard. She was actually surprised that he had managed all week long without breaking things –the window notwithstanding, since he had done so on purpose- and that so far, he had stuck to the deal better than she would have ever imagined.

Unknown to Maria, water kept boiling twice as fast as it should in a kitchen way below her.

She had meant every single word about not being the damsel in distress. That had been the driving thought that had awakened her this morning and was still fueling her frustration at this whole thing. That Dave had started with Max's confidence in her had been so disconcerting she still wasn't sure what to make of it.

The thing that made her nervous though, was that last dangerous look he had gotten before leaving the office. He was not used to being talked to the way she had talked to him, she was sure, but nervous or not, she was _not_ going to back down. She was getting somewhere, she was sure of it.

And if nothing else, she had managed the pencil. Though… what if that was not enough, or wouldn't trigger any flash… She had to get something else, something different, something _meaningful._ There was bound to be something else she could take from this place to help the Pod Squad get a good flash.

She turned around with all the intention of opening those drawers yet again, her eyes set on the desk for a second just before her heart skipped a beat at seeing Dave at the door, their eyes locking as he was entering and she turning. In that moment, she felt as if he had watched every single one of her movements, read every single one of her thoughts. In other words, she felt caught. And when he spoke his next words…

"Found anything interesting?"

…she knew she had been.

.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

It was all absurdly still.

Or so Max thought in those few precious seconds between the screen shattering and him being able to unglue his eyes from that particular spot. Jake would have told him that it was because a large concentration of oxygen had flooded his brain cells, distorting his perception of time –and Jake would _know,_ he had been working on that for quite some time before coming to Dave's aid- but Max had way too many things going on at the same time in his mind to really think about why time seemed to have stopped altogether. Even his heart seemed to have stood still in his chest.

It all had started with the comfortable couch. And the silent room. And his tired eyes.

Next thing he knew, he was having a weird dream -though as soon as oxygen had flooded his brain, he had completely wiped it out of his memory- and the next-next thing he knew was that he was waking up to the sight of the woman he loved. So, in that moment in time, things were actually pretty good.

The next chain of events though, was actually rather complicated and, in retrospect, kind of weird too. Two lines of thought divided the moment that Max realized that he was not in his room or apartment or whatever alone with Liz, but in Jake's lab.

So the first line, rather confused, asked the inner question of _Why are we in Jake's lab?_ while the second went with the more paranoid notion of _Why is Liz not supposed to be here? _The second line of thought beat the first one with the all terrifying answer, _because Jake would know! _that prompt the first line to ask out loud, "What are you _doing_ here?"

For a fraction of a second, Max felt time slow down for the first time –the first wave of oxygen- which gave him enough pause to feel his connection with Liz, so vibrant, so alive, and so crowded with a million emotions coming from her and from him that it threatened to knock him out cold if he actually tried to disentangle them right then and there.

However, his second inner voice went right to the next urgent question, _are we alone here?_ which made him leave Liz's beautiful, worried, and shocked brown eyes to turn to see what was really going on. Time almost came to a complete halt –the second wave of oxygen- when he saw Jake there, open mouthed, staring at him, and he briefly thought that Jake and Liz shared a strangely similar look.

His first line of thought got stuck with one single thought, _he knows everything!_ and kept spiraling into a train wreck about what it meant for all of them now that Jake knew. Yet his second line of thought drowned that endless inner babbling with a more cold approach, _is Liz actually showing on that screen?_

That was the first moment when he noticed that things looked as if they were going in slow motion, if only because he felt an eternity went by as he was turning to look at the screen. And there it was, such a bright electric blue that even he got scared –making the blue slightly brighter- and though it was surrounding him and Liz, he couldn't be really sure if it was all him, or if Liz was playing a part in the energy surrounding them… or if Jake would know if there was any difference at all.

He panicked.

Part of him was in a complete meltdown, while the other part of him tried to rationalize what had happened, what was going on, and what he should do next. His instinct of fight or flight got stuck as his two lines of thought ran in opposite directions: The first one wanted to flee that place with Liz by his side, _ipso facto,_ while the second one wanted to stay and do some damage control.

He was rooted to the place, his mind going blank for a split second, as his eyes contemplated bright blue lines sort of sticking out of himself, as if he were a lightning monster or something. It would seem later to him –much, _much_ later- that his first line of thought must have confused "flight" with "fight", because that was the only logical explanation as to why he had just exploded the screen into a million pieces –and, in the present state of things going absurdly slow, he had actually seen the entire thing going off as some really cool Hollywood effect. Not that he had found it _cool_ right then and there.

If his two lines of thought had been able to sit down while watching all this unfolding in front of them, the second line of thought would have just stared at the pieces and sarcastically said to the first line, "Are we having fun yet?"

In truth, he had gotten really scared that if Jake got as much as a glimpse of that screen, he would have actually known that Liz was special. Logically, the screen wasn't really picking up the energy in that room, just showing it up, but destroying it would mean that he was buying time for Jake to not know.

Or that was how his second line of thought ended with as time finally caught up with Max. It had taken less than ten seconds from the moment he had realized he wasn't in his room to the moment where the screen's tiny, burnt pieces were falling to the floor, but for all Max knew, an entire hour had gone by. Jake would have told him that, because oxygen had to leave vital organs of his body to rush to his brain and aid him in the "flight or fight" decision making, it could only sustain the "slowness" period for a very limited time. Sometimes, the process was so automatic and with such reaction short time, that the brain wouldn't even process colors, making the entire scene look black and white.

But right now the only black was the pieces smoking accusingly on the floor and the only white was the skin of all three in that room. In fact, Max noticed right then, that not only were things absurdly still, but they were also absurdly quiet. Though, to be accurate, things weren't "still" now, the three of them just were kind of paralyzed in their places… not saying a thing.

He needed to get Liz out of there.

The last of his second line of thought got a hold of himself with one simple statement, _You can't start acting guilty._ A little late, considering the blown up screen… Still, running out of that room wouldn't exactly clear his actions either. It would only make things worse.

On the other hand, he couldn't risk Liz being in that room any longer than she had already been… He realized right then that he actually had no idea of how much time his wife had been there. What _had_ happened to him?

"Are you all right?" both Jake and Liz asked at the same time, both looking at him as if he had suddenly woken up from a six month coma.

Technically speaking, he was more than all right. In fact, he actually felt so…_vibrant_.

"I'm—I'm not… sure," he finally managed, turning to face Jake and then Liz. Her eyes were so worried for him, and his were so worried for her. And then the strangest thing happened: They shared an electric shock, audible through the entire room, making them let go of each others' hand in a second, with a barely audible gasp.

"I think you could use some water," Jake said, breaking the momentary surprise between Max and Liz. They both turned to look at him leaving the room, and as one they both stood up, following him immediately. They both knew Liz shouldn't be there, and they were not going to waste such golden a opportunity.

He made Liz go first, as he turned back, searching for Maria's gift. He was _not_ coming back into this room while Liz was still around. The red-wrapped book was still on the table, and Max snatched it in one fluent move. Gosh, he actually felt so aware right now, aware of every turn, every heartbeat, even the way he negotiated his weight from one foot to the other as he bent for the gift and then fully stood up to turn around and leave for good.

Even if Liz hadn't been a factor to leave the room, the smell of the burnt pieces was actually starting to make him nauseous. Since when was he so sensitive to smells, anyway?

Once he was out of the room, he almost collided with Liz, who had spun around to look at him, from head to toe, almost as if she could x-ray him.

"Max, are you alright?" she asked him again, the scent of her shampoo coming in waves a little strong.

"Maybe you should lay down," came Jake's voice as he was opening the mini-fridge at the other end of his office.

"I feel fine," Max reassured Liz first. "I'm—I'm sorry about…" Max turned to look back. Maybe he should go and try to put it back together… guilt started to intrude in his thoughts. After all, this was the second thing he had shattered or broken in Jake's lab in the last three days.

"Nonsense," Jake cut Max's sentence, "but you should at least sit down." Jake came with a cold water bottle and handed it to him as he motioned with his hand that they both should sit down. Max was just about to argue when Jake's next words startled him into silence.

"And while you calm down, I'll tell you the truth of what has been going on for the past seven months."


	34. About Before pt 1

As usual, thanks for coming back to read!! And thank you very much for your reviews :) Here's the first half of chapter 32, and it shouldn't take long before the final half is up :D

* * *

**XXXII**

**About Before**

**.-.-. **

"_Found anything interesting?"_

The words hung in the air, and for some reason Dave almost expected them to echo. He had just entered the room to find Maria staring out of the window, and then all of the sudden she had turned and had started to move towards his desk.

It had been almost 20 minutes since he had left. Had she actually waited that long to work up the nerve to go through his things? It was unlikely, but not impossible. Still, seeing her petrified in mid-stance was too good to let pass. If she hadn't already gone through every inch of this office, then she was just about to.

"Oh, God! You scared me!" Maria said, effectively breaking the paralyzing spell. He slightly narrowed his eyes as he entered the room fully and started closing the door. He had just been dealing with an extremely intelligent hacker. Now he had to deal with an extremely good actress.

"And, as a matter of fact," Maria continued, "I did find something interesting." Maria smiled at him. There were 8 kinds of smiles, and only 2 were sincere. Dave was trying to decipher which one of the other 6 she was giving him. He _had_ seen the look in her eyes, so fixed and determined on his desk.

"I bet that scared the hell out of you," Maria kept smiling sweetly, lifting her right hand, her thumb signaling the shattered window behind her.

_That was bold,_ Dave thought, astonished for a second with Maria's words. He couldn't afford another round where they were both throwing hit after hit until someone would actually connect a knock out, and he also couldn't go back to treading on thin ice as he had done in the beginning. He needed another approach. He actually needed to be equally _bold._

"Yes," he answered sincerely. _Hell yes!_ would have been a more accurate answer. Michael's display of power had actually made Dave's mind recoil more than 30 years back in time. A memory had been brought back so abruptly at the sound of that shattering glass: so quick, almost silent yet resonating in the quiet of the room; a memory of such long time ago. For a second, his mind had gotten lost in an equally tense room, shots breaking the silence, the windows shattering all around him. And he had stayed still. So still. It had been then that he had learned that it was better to stay still when he was as scared as he had been.

"He's deeply in love with you."

It was Maria's turn to look astonished. Probably not because she doubted it was true, but because he had said it as seriously as he had admitted that Michael had scared the hell out of him. It wasn't a question either, just a flat out statement.

Silence stretched out in the few seconds it took him to cross the length of the room and lean against the right corner of his desk, facing the window, his leather chair between Maria and himself.

"And it took you what? Three minutes to figure that out?" Maria sarcastically said as she looked at his profile. Dave's eyes remained on the window. _You're good, _Dave silently praised her for not letting his statement shock her more than few moments.

"Less." He answered with the same tone, pausing, making her wait for an explanation. "It took him less than three seconds to shatter that window."

She returned her gaze to their point of discussion, the shattered glass still covered with the transparent plastic so cold air wouldn't be able to penetrate the room. "He challenged you, didn't he?" she asked him rather absently, as if she were lost in thought.

"He warned me," he corrected her. Had Dave been completely honest, he would have added, _I challenged him first,_ but if Michael hadn't shared this particular point of their meeting with her, he wasn't going to do so either.

Maria turned to look at him, almost stare at him, as if she were deciding something.

"How do you know, really?" she finally asked, crossing her arms in front of her chest, frowning a little.

Dave took a few seconds to define something that was so glaringly obvious yet so hard to put into words. He could have named her a hundred and more moments that had been captured on tape, on film, on digital devices, but that wasn't what came first to his mind. It wasn't on the obvious, but on the subtle, that Michael had really given himself up.

"It's in his silence," Dave enigmatically said, though this time Maria didn't press, she just waited for him to elaborate. "It's in the way he doesn't want to talk about you. He's too aware of his feelings that he's afraid he might not be good at hiding them once he brings your name up. When he warned me with the window, it was just the last confirmation I needed."

Maria's eyebrows arched, a bit surprised, her eyes going to the floor, thoughtful. "Why do you need to know all this stuff?"

He almost wished his cell phone would ring now again. He had already answered this question and its variants to all the other kids, and yet they still didn't get tired of asking. He guessed it was because he knew or perceived such intimate details of their lives that they would like to know why. Shouldn't it be enough that their stories were so unique to anyone's life on this planet that their value was priceless? What a historian would give for just one chapter, one day in the lives of these six teenage kids!

But he was no historian, was he? No, and he would never accept such a passive place either. Watching without interfering was just… wasteful. Something neither of his parents would have been able to stand, to just passively watch. Dave wondered for the briefest of moments if they would have been proud of him and his ways.

He honestly didn't know. Their ways had been of the fast reward kind. Everything had to happen _now_, things had to change today, not tomorrow. Dave's way was more of the "planning for the long run" type. He had been told, by his parents and by pretty much every single adult he had encountered in his childhood, that he was meant to change things, to change the world. Because of who he was, his parents had said, truly believing in the power of one; and because of what he could do, all the others had added, using his intellect for their own ends.

He was no child anymore, and he had his own ends now. But one thing was for sure, he was _not_ going to passively watch.

"I need to know if I'm going to regret our deal," Dave finally said, turning to look at the girl with the green eyes, blond hair, and hurricane-like temper.

Maria half chuckled, half snorted. "You need to know if we won't have a nervous breakdown and run on you, uh?"

Dave slightly smiled. She didn't know limits to her boldness. The fact that her statement was partially true made it funny, though. Not that he was going to admit it to her.

"I was more thinking in terms of not tying all the loose ends, actually. Making my end of the deal being more… extensive than I originally thought," he told her instead. There certainly had been surprises and no small amount of leaks to be sealed off as he had gotten to know the details that had been so elusive for the past two years. The kids hadn't been exactly careful; they had seemed to have luck on their side a great deal of time, and they had managed some pretty remarkable allies as well. But they had to get better on their own. If another Pierce came after them in the future… Dave had no illusions that there would come a time when the kids were going to be out and around, but he had to ensure they would be able to defend themselves or else…

"Terrible things could happen…" he said more to himself than Maria, forgetting for a second he was thinking out loud. But just for a second. "If I'm not careful around you, I'm going to get more than a shattered window. Michael's love for you could mean terrible things for me," Dave amended, making his out loud thought part of his dialogue with Maria.

"You should have thought about that before caging us here," Maria said. Another thing the kids had been saying to him. Had everyone forgotten he had given them a choice and that they had _accepted_ to be here? _What? You didn't have anything to do with _ensuring_ that?_ Jake's voice came into his mind. He shut it up.

"It seems I should have thought about a lot of things before bringing you here… but then again, time was running short."

"Why? The FBI was getting _too close_?" Maria said, arching an eyebrow. No, she definitely didn't know boundaries to her boldness. So she _had_ searched through his things. What had she thought, then? What had her intuition told her?

"I wouldn't take it so lightly," he simply said, making a fast inventory of his belongings. "But you're right, they were getting too close and I had to act with what I knew," Dave kept talking, finally standing straight and walking to the cupboard. "So, I ended up with six extremely stressed out teenage kids, who half believe what I say, half expect me to turn on my word, not to mention that three of those said kids can pretty much collapse this place if they really wanted to." Dave reached the cupboard and bent over. Nothing Maria had seen was of extreme importance, not without someone to explain it to her. "If you ever thought you are the only ones here with everything to lose," he said as he got two Cokes out of the fridge, "then you don't know your own limits."

He wasn't kidding, but it was strange that they hadn't considered the possibility of all the damage they really _could_ do in this place. Besides, saying it would give them that sense of security, of control, that they were in desperate need of feeling, especially Michael and Max.

He straightened up, facing her. He just hoped Maria would be a good messenger and _tell_them that.

"Then you're wasting your time," Maria said, walking to him. For the first time, and for the briefest of instants, Dave did feel intimidated by that woman and the strength of her stare. "Knowing if Michael and I are going to live happily ever after or burn this place down is irrelevant to you now. What are you going to do? Kick us out if you don't like what you hear?"

Maria stood no more than three feet in front of him, arms crossed, expression defiant.

"I'm going to buy you tickets to Paris for your second honeymoon if you live happily ever after, and re-build this place with non-flammable materials if you burnt it down." He handed her the Coke, both their expressions serious as she took it. "I just like to be prepared."

"How boy-scout of you," she said. "What are we, seriously? An investment?"

"An opportunity," he answered without a second thought. And boy, was that an understatement, Dave reflected as his plans laid before his mind's eyes. _A one chance opportunity._ "They are so unique that there are practically endless possibilities to the applications, the knowledge that can be gained," Dave said, returning to his alibi. So what if they thought he was greedy? He didn't care as long as they stayed there. Right where he would know _exactly_ where they were, and not wandering around with the FBI -or who knew what else- breathing down their necks.

"Charming," Maria said, walking to stand beside him, now the two of them facing the numbers on the wall in front. A short pause, then, "You would really send us to Paris?"

The hopeful sub-tone was not lost to Dave's ears. His mind raced through all the variables and loose ends he would need to tie up in order for that to happen… not to mention the fact that he thought Paris was over-rated as the city of love… but then again, he had never liked French to begin with, and by extension any French stuff. Still, even if he managed to sort out all the obstacles in between, there was still one single thing that even Maria would have to agree was a very decisive factor: Michael.

"If you convince Michael to go…" Dave trailed off, not looking directly at Maria, but by the corner of his eye he saw her slightly pouting, obviously imagining herself dragging a very reluctant Michael through the C_hamps Ellysée, _"I could arrange it."

He sipped his Coke while Maria regarded him intently. Had she been one of the "Pod Squad", then he would have actually worried she was reading his mind or something. Silence stretched for a few more seconds, making Dave wonder what Maria could be possibly thinking.

"Are you a good guy?"

The words hung in the air as they took him by surprise. Why were people so stubborn to try and see things in black and white, or good and evil? It was one of those things that he really didn't understand, just like Jake's constant desire for a different life.

"I'm the guy who saw an opportunity and took it," he stated, this time turning to look at Maria, "but only time will tell us if it was the right choice or not."

"That doesn't answer my question," Maria pointed out, her Coke still unopened in her right hand, her eyes intent on his face.

Dave thought about it for a couple of seconds. "There is no real answer," he said as he slightly shrugged, "it's all a matter of perspective." Maria narrowed her eyes at him, clearly about to argue. "Think about it," he said before she had a chance, "I'm the good guy who kept the FBI at bay, while I'm the bad guy who 'kidnapped' you. Whichever has more weight to you will define if I'm the good or the bad guy."

"You do realize that doesn't sound like you are the 'good' guy at all, right?" Maria asked, one eyebrow arched, opening her Coke. Dave stared at her for the longest of times, slightly frowning. "What?" Maria said after the silence had stretched too long for her comfort.

"That's exactly what Ray said when we made his deal," Dave said, figuring what were the odds that two strangers, coming from totally dissimilar backgrounds, with such different things to lose, would tell him exactly the same thing. Ray had said it without really caring if he was a good guy or not, though. _My, oh my, have you changed, my friend,_ Dave mused to himself. The Ray of today would certainly _care_ on what side of the good/evil line Dave would fall.

"I've heard you wanted to learn some defensive techniques," Dave said, turning the subject away from his good or evil intentions. He was fairly sure he was on a more solid ground now with Maria, which had been exactly what he had aimed for the minute he had stepped in his office; and exactly why he had let go the fact that she had been rummaging through his stuff.

"Yeah, you've got a problem with that?"

_Sore point?_ Dave wondered at the defensiveness of Maria's voice. "Actually, I was just going to say that Ray is really good at that, defensive techniques, I mean. That's why I hired him in the first place."

Maria regarded him, narrowing her eyes yet again, a gesture he was very familiar with by now. "So, he kicked your butt?" Never one to sugar coat things, something else he was very familiar with too. He wondered how much of that was entirely hers, and how much had rubbed off from Michael.

"On a regular basis for about three months," Dave said truthfully, smiling at the memory. The one thing he needed the most besides the kids trusting Jake, was the kids trusting Ray. So Jake had to deal with the half aliens, while Ray had to deal with the whole humans, and he really couldn't think of a better choice.

"Then he's my new favorite person," Maria sarcastically said, taking him out of his thoughts. His smile slightly changed to a smirk.

"Oh, you wait till it's you on the floor for the next three months and then you'll tell me if he's _still_ your favorite person," Dave said, half joking, half serious. In all honesty he was glad that Maria had taken that approach, and that she would probably drag Liz and Kyle into it. It made him feel sort of relieved that they were taking their own safety more seriously than before. They had time here… if nothing else, he had bought them that.

Maria turned to look at the numbers after she had given him the standard glare for his last sentence. She suddenly frowned, and for one fleeing second Dave truly thought Maria had seen the code behind those numbers –as his mind always did when he was looking at them- but then she turned to look at him, a question on her lips.

"Samantha said on Sunday that people in here didn't get really paid, but that they had bank accounts. So I want to know how much are we talking about here. You cannot expect us to leave this place penniless, do you?"

Not a code breaker, but certainly a business woman. They would banter for the next half hour about how much their bank accounts should account for every month. From that point on Dave always remembered that skill of hers, and as the years went by, and Maria did become really skillful at making deals, Dave would laugh inwardly at the memory of this day, when he had really met in his office one hurricane with green eyes, sharp tongue, loyal friendship, and the ability to tame one Michael Guerin.

.-.-.


	35. About Before pt 2

Thanks for coming back to read!! Thanks a ton for the reviews and welcome to all the new readers! I might be a slow writer, but the story is coming :)

**XXXII  
About Before  
**_cont._

-.-.-.-.-.-.-

As Dave was navigating through the complicated winds of Hurricane DeLuca, Jake too was dealing with his own storm. Many things were competing for Jake's attention as he gave Max the bottle of water. Questions swarmed in his mind like bees around a hive. How did their bond work? What had happened to Max to fall asleep like that? What on Earth had that energy… shield-thing been? What had startled him so deeply that he had exploded the entire screen?

What did Max _think_ was so important that he needed the screen off?

Jake hadn't missed Max's question to Liz as to what she was doing there, or that startled look, or the sudden realization just a second before Max had turned and exploded the screen. Realization of what, though, was one more of those bees swarming his mind. The thing Jake knew, without a doubt, was that Max was wired up really bad, and that Jake needed to make sure he would calm down. Something had scared Max far more than anything Jake had seen so far, and he had the distinct notion that it had a lot to do with Liz being there.

Theories spun through his mind, finally settling on the most possible one: There was something Max didn't want Liz to see. But what? Or was Jake even right? As usual with these kids, he was left wondering a million things with no real answers. Still, the one thing he had deduced from the screen exploding was that Max needed to be out of that room, and so Jake had complied. Yet Jake couldn't risk letting Max go in that state of mind. He needed the kid to know he wasn't angry with him, or even scared. Though quite frankly, Jake was a little afraid. For the first time, he was really uncertain of how Max would react now that Liz was in the room.

Incredible how having Liz around changed things so much.

Pushing those thoughts aside, the one thing that would regain some trust here was if Jake gave them something they needed most: Information. But that was tricky at best, being that he himself only had half-truths and a million conjectures of his own. Not to mention a past to evade, fears to conceal and doubts better left in the dark of his room.

As he sat down, he took a moment to collect his thoughts. Max and Liz had looked ready to bolt two seconds before, but were now sitting, expectantly, eager, watching him intently. Jake himself felt as if he were on a caffeine override, his body always getting jumpy after a good cup of coffee. He diverted his eyes to the table in the middle of the three couches that made his small living room. Seven months was a long time to go through, especially when his mind had retained a very large quantity of details that would be useless right at this moment.

Arranging his priorities, he decided that the last thing he wanted was for Dave to come out in a bad light. It would do nothing to appease the kids' fears, and for all Jake had gathered, nothing was being done against them. Besides, for all their 32 years of friendship, Jake just could not doubt Dave. If Dave had wanted to do something questionable, he would have never asked Jake to come on board to begin with. 

Expectant eyes met his own again, a little bit fearful, a little bit on edge, but oh so eager for the truth. _The pure and simple truth is rarely pure and never simple,_ he thought to himself. He cleared his throat, finally deciding that the best point to begin a story was, in fact, the beginning.

"Seven months ago Dave called me while I was doing a research project on perception in England. He wanted me to help him on a project of his own. He was tracking down three teenage kids and their friends. Three kids with highly developed psychic abilities that had attracted the US government's interest."

"He didn't tell you we were half-aliens?" Max asked, cautious, his voice low. _He's so ready to snap,_ Jake thought, knowing he couldn't risk putting these kids under more pressure. As it was now, he had a shattered 2-inch glass door and a blasted screen, and both had hardly been planned by Max. If Jake wasn't careful about how he handled the next minutes, then… He honestly had no idea. He had a very vivid vision of a Michael as stressed out as Max, and suddenly, Jake got a glimpse of their energy destroying half the compound.

_What are we playing with, Dave?_

He shook the thought off. If what it took for them to calm down was the truth, then he was willing to compromise. At least the truth as he best understood it, anyway.

"Over the phone?" Jake answered Max's question, "No. He told me the layout. You were running for your lives, you were still pretty green about your own limits. There were things he didn't know for sure, but he wanted another pair of eyes to take a look at what he had so far. It was very clear that you needed help. I was on a plane to the States two hours later."

How far those memories seemed now to Jake. Dave had never really said that they "needed help", that was what Jake had concluded. And somewhere in that flight over the ocean he had told himself that these "gifted" kids wanted to explore their powers as well. Why wouldn't they? It had been Jake's mistake, no one else's, really, yet he still felt cheated by Dave on that account.

"We met at the airport, which was actually rare. Dave was so eager to tell me the details he couldn't wait to see me. He's always been so excited about things, always... But this time, it was more... _urgent _than I had ever seen before."

Max and Liz exchanged a somewhat anxious look. Had they been aware, truly, really aware of how important they were for Dave? And was this tidbit of information a good thing for them to know? Jake paused for a second so he could regroup his thoughts. He reminded himself that he had to be careful about how he was delivering this "truth". 

"He had stumbled upon you by chance," he continued. "He had gotten intrigued when two completely unrelated events had crashed into one strange happening at the Phoenix Hospital Pediatrics ward: A bullet hole on a waitress' dress, and a deep space microwave signal originating in Roswell, New Mexico. Two years had passed by the time he was telling me this in the car. Aliens..." Jake trailed off, with a small smile, remembering the time, "aliens who looked like humans; teenagers lost in the threads of the government's Special Unit, and strange happenings he couldn't quite put together." Jake regarded them again. He didn't need to elaborate since Dave had already told them how he had discovered them in the first place. "He wasn't sure if he should intervene." 

His voice sounded rather old, Jake thought for a second, as both Max and Liz frowned.

"Why? What was he afraid of?" Liz asked, making Jake frown in turn. It was so blatantly obvious for him.

"Risks," he said, rather sharply. Oh, how many risks Dave had been taking from the moment he had stepped in front of one of the US government "projects", to put it mildly. It was as if the mere word, "Risk", actually opened a closed door in Jake's mind:_ Risks, because they are still looking for us. My God, it's been more than 20 years and they are still after us. We know too much, and Dave has just kept searching and searching for more information, almost taunting them, daring them to catch him. Except that they think he's dead, and I just disappeared, and if he plays this wrong, if things backfire, then they will know the truth, and will track us down... _

"Risks?" Max asked, confused, effectively pulling Jake out of his reverie, though not quite closing that door as tightly as it had been. Of course, they weren't aware of all the complicated mess his first 18 years of life had been. Hardly anyone was aware of that.

"For you, for him..." _for me_, Jake silently added before explaining, "Too many things had to be moved in place. From infiltrating the Special Unit, to tracking you down without a third party knowing it. He had already started it, but he was still uncertain."

"Uncertain," Max said, slightly narrowing his eyes. "But he already knew most of what he knows now, that we were fleeing for our lives. That we were no threat."

"Don't be so sure," Jake said, smiling a little. It was rather comical to see how people thought that Dave knew every single thing there was to know. Dave had an uncanny talent for making people draw their own conclusions, usually for his own benefit. But then again, it wasn't so comical when Jake himself was the one to fall for Dave's talents...

"Dave was still getting information from other sources. He didn't know how many people were following your trail. Just for starters, there was your boss who had _known_ there was something to be found in the radio spectrum; the owners of Liz's dress, who had remained anonymous at the time. The Special Unit that had suddenly branched into the Army... You might not have been a threat per se, but you sure were dragging a lot of those on your tail."

"Brody never had... he just found some artifact that turned out to be some sort of... communicator..." Max said, as if in defense of his former boss. Though he had gotten rather tense at this. What did Max really know about Mr. Davis then?

It would be years before Jake would know that Brody's mystery artifact had been a very effective way to turn off Max's powers.

"Well, Dave researched Brody Davis extensively, that's for sure. When it became apparent he wasn't one of you, just a very avid researcher on alien things, Dave got puzzled. He was trying to understand why you had healed his daughter and the other children too. Was your relationship that close? Was he blackmailing you? What did he know for sure? Dave never really understood why, and for a while he was really fixed on that single event. I gotta tell you, it does puzzle me as well."

For all Max had talked about why he didn't want to heal again, he had never really told Jake why he _had_ healed those kids in the first place. And that was the most interesting part about these three hybrids: Their motivations. Silence met his subtle request. _Maybe some other time,_ Jake sighed inwardly.

"But Mr. Davis was the least of Dave's worries," Jake continued once the silence passed the comfortable mark. If he hadn't had their attention before, he surely did now.

"Meta-Chem went down in the flames, a research company sister to many other research companies of which their owners just… vanished. And suddenly, there was this research on alien genetics being sold to the highest bidder."

The temperature must have dropped some 4 degrees, Jake would have sworn, from the way goosebumps appeared on both Max's and Liz's arms.

"What research?" Liz asked, just as quietly as Max had talked before, as if they thought speaking louder would scare Jake away along with the information they were gaining.

"It took him some time to trace it back," Jake sincerely said. One thing he had to make sure was that Max and Liz understood that things weren't easy -not even for Dave- out in the real world. Dave couldn't snap his fingers or disregard a thousand little threats around him just because he wanted to know something. Things had to be done carefully, and most of the time, slowly, for it to work out with no one being the wiser. "He traced it back to Meta-Chem and its researchers. The information came from what they had learned from months of studying Michael while he was at work."

Max and Liz exchanged another significant look. Significant, sure, but Jake was damned if he could understand what was being said between those two. They had already known Meta-Chem was onto them, that part of the story was clear to Jake. Michael's friend had been killed in order for Michael to heal him, and later Max had been threatened to heal Clayton Wheeler or face certain death.

"Have you ever wondered," Jake said, taking a slight detour from his original path, "what Meta-Chem would have done if you hadn't…" _died?_ "collapsed?" Jake chose at the last second. Max looked at him with that expression of slow realization, his eyes opening a bit too round, and his lips parting just slightly.

"They would have taken Max, wouldn't they?" Liz asked, her expression mirroring her husband's.

"Most likely. They already knew so much about you…" Jake trailed off, now his thoughts returning to Dave… and himself, making his internal dialogue go silently in his head. _People like us, Max, we don't get to have an uneventful life… there's always someone who knows too much, and is powerful enough to take us away. Sometimes I think we can't hide forever, but that certainly doesn't stop us from trying._

"You already know so much about us too," Max said, regaining his precious control, his voice low. It wasn't an accusation, more like a statement that lead to the question of _what are _you_ going to do with it now? _

Jake smiled faintly. "That's in large part thanks to their research. Dave bought it as soon as he knew it was on the market, but his uneasiness grew. How many people had clues that would lead to you and by extension, to him? He hadn't known they had been the owners of Liz's dress to begin with, that was a surprise reserved for this week."

One of many surprises, indeed.

"_They're a nightmare," Ray had said in their meeting yesterday to discuss the kids' events the past two days. "They started with the local Sheriff and ended with the freaking Army on their heels. They've gone from human hunters, to alien hunters, to alien doubles, to traitors, to pointless trips and good Lord, it's as if they had a death wish or something…"_

To say that the kids' actions over the past four years had given Ray a migraine would be an understatement. Ray was an expert on disappearing and evading pursuers, so for him to finally know all those little things that hadn't made sense, to know all the details that until this week had been in shadows, had been a real revelation. Dave hadn't been too happy either. _They have been careless,_ was all he had said as he had continued with his puzzle, half of it done by now.

_They are just kids,_ Jake thought not for the first time since he had seen them arrive a week and a half ago, oblivious as to how their lives were about to change.

He stood up, starting to pace, the only way he was going to burn off all the excess energy he had in his body right now. He had always paced to clear his thoughts, and to give his body something to do while his mind was occupied with other matters. Sighing out loud, he was aware that he was taking way too long to get where the kids wanted him to get.

"By this point, a month had already passed since you had escaped your graduation ceremony. Ray could barely keep tabs on you, and Dave was still tying loose ends. And one of those was how to get you to agree."

A memory flashed into Jake's mind, making him stand still for a few seconds.

"So, the serum stops their powers… just like that?" Dave had asked him as they both had been going through the Special Unit's Head Medical Technician's notes.

"It's hard to say…" Jake had answered as he reviewed the file for the fourth time. "They literally stumbled upon it in '47 when they were trying to control the survivor. But around that time doctors where starting to understand the basics of neurotransmitters, so they targeted what they knew. The serum seemed to attack several chemicals in some degree. A neurotransmitter called serotonin, especially, which we now believe is a highly effective regulator of anger, aggression, body temperature, and sleep, for example. Being that their emotions trigger outbursts of energy, it might be a way of shutting those paths down."

Dave had nodded his understanding, his eyes reading some paper in front of him. Where Dave was so gifted on his codes, Jake was with biology, but hardly did they ever discuss their mutual fields, mainly because they were hardly working on the same project.

"The Special Unit actually understood that what they needed to target were actually neuromodulators," Jake had continued, and then he had backtracked a bit as Dave had turned to look at him, a bit puzzled. "They can be considered neurotransmitters by some, which is exactly what this serotonin is. The thing that I cannot understand is why the serum also attacks acetylcholine… It's supposed to disrupt the somatic nervous system, you know, voluntary control of body movement…"

"I know what _that_ is," Dave had smiled as he had returned his eyes to the paper in front of him. Sometimes, they both forgot that, despite the fact they were talking about very different things, it didn't mean the other didn't have a pretty thorough understanding of each other's fields.

"The fact is," Jake had said, finally getting to the point of his troubled thoughts, "it doesn't suppress their body movements or the reception of external stimuli… not hearing, not touch and certainly not sight. I don't know what that is attacking. It shouldn't even _be_ part of the serum."

Dave had stopped reading and looked at him, frowning. Then his eyes had fallen to a low point behind Jake's right, clearly thinking something. "But it does disrupt their touch on their… psychic abilities. They can no longer move objects with their abilities… you know, they cannot _move_ with their minds."

Give Dave a bunch of facts, a beginning and ending, and he would put cause and effect together in 30 seconds or less. If only biology were that easy. "I've thought about that… but I've barely begun trying to decipher these things properly. The serum works, okay, but we are not really sure why, or how. They seem to work with the same chemical blocks we have, but in ways we can't even imagine."

Back in the here and now, Jake resumed his pacing. He was certainly learning a lot about how those chemical blocks were manifesting themselves in the form of shattered glasses, sudden green shields, and a destroyed screen. If only he had known what he was truly getting himself into… Oh, who was he kidding? He would have jumped aboard just as fast, but with other expectations.

"He did a lot of thinking before coming to me," Jake finally said to them, still lost in thought, "he played a lot of scenarios in his head, trying to figure how best to approach you. By the time we met, he still wasn't sure."

"So you helped him," Max's voice broke into Jake's thoughts loud and clear, even if Max himself was –as usual- talking very low. Jake met his eyes. There wasn't reproach in Max's eyes, but a certain veil of mistrust was now present in his stance. Jake knew –or at least hoped- that Max wanted to trust him, but didn't know how, and these… _revelations_ weren't exactly working in Jake's favor.

"Yes," Jake answered truthfully, going ahead with the whole story. "It took us several days, but Ray, Dave, and I were able to meet all Dave's parameters. It started with one simple fact, as all his deals do: How could he prove his deal was solid?"

"He needed to build trust," Liz said, frowning. "How did that end with those rooms?"

_How indeed._ It was a rather long story and Jake took a second to sort out the reasons behind their actions. He asked himself for a second if he was going to come to a point where he would have to admit that he honestly didn't know what Dave had been thinking... and he didn't like it when he answered himself with _you can bet on it._

"We started with the facts," Jake began again, chronologically arranging the events that had ultimately led them to the rooms. "You had been running for the past six months, somehow avoiding detection. Besides the former Sheriff, you had had no trustworthy adults around to help you. The FBI first, and the Army later, were after you with the firm intention of either wiping you out or locking you in a dark room without ever intending to believe your side of the story. Your families were left behind, barely aware of why you had to run away, and completely unable to help you at all. For all intents and purposes, you were alone in this world, and had no reason to believe anyone would willingly lend you a hand."

There was a subtle but certainly wounded look in the kids' eyes, and Jake knew he had stirred a lot of painful memories there. Truth was often so cold, he reflected.

"Trust," Jake continued, "was not the first thing in our list. You had had way too many reasons not to trust even your shadow, that we couldn't start there. It _was_ part of the list, of course, but our first major concern was to strip away the illusion that it was safe, that you could defend yourselves. That no matter how many powers you had, or how prepared you thought you were, you were still… vulnerable." Telling them this, so calm and rather so emotionless, was also making Jake re-think all his own motives, his own expectations… his own future in this scheme.

"We didn't have a chance," Max said after a few seconds have gone by, his eyes lost in some point in front of him, his bottle of water forgotten in his hand. "You didn't even let us try to defend ourselves." Max's eyes met Jake's, understanding filling them. "You didn't want us thinking if we had done something different… if we had just seen it coming… We just didn't know what was happening until it was too late… way beyond too late."

"Unaware. And all together." Those had been exactly Dave's words, his parameters. All their plans had revolved around those not so simple things, and the result was sitting right in front of Jake. It had worked, but for how long? "You went to sleep one day, and the next you woke up in prison. No warnings, no chance… Nothing."

Silence descended again as Jake got slightly stuck for a second, finally taking seat on a coach's arm. How best to continue? Ray had already told them how the plan to capture them had gone, so there was no real point to go over it again. "You were put to sleep and brought here on early Wednesday morning, by helicopter. It was my duty to make sure you were okay. There's where the blood tests enter the picture," Jake emphasized as he looked directly at Liz. Max frowned, knowing he had missed something between the two of them, and turned to look at Liz, silently asking what this was about. She was caught between her desire to tell him, and her need to listen to Jake. She turned to look at Jake, unsure of what to do.

"You had been captured," Jake proceeded, not wanting to get into another argument with Liz about what had really happened. He was getting there, anyway. "So, as I said, the next thing for us to do was to make certain you were all right. We ensured all your vitals were stable. EKG's and EEG's standard measures were taken. We kept a close eye on you for the next three days, and of course, we did the blood tests all along." Jake acknowledged Liz. "We needed to know how your health was doing; a frame of reference on where you stood."

"That took you three days?" Liz said, clearly unconvinced still about Jake's claims. Her voice had returned to the same tone she had been using before Max had woken up. _Patience, Jake. They're just scared kids. _

"We were supposed to take a week," Jake corrected after a few seconds had passed. "You see, the more time you lost, the more intimidating it became. And Dave wanted to scare you as much as he could because that fear was real. Just like everyone else out there hunting you is real… But things changed once you were here…"

Jake trailed off. He wanted to tell them the honest truth as things had happened, but there was really nothing to gain by telling Max that his heart hadn't seemed to like being sedated for so long. It just couldn't be easy to deal with that kind of information after learning less than thirty minutes before that his heart had once literally stopped beating for almost half a minute.

Jake also wondered for a second about those other things that had happened in that white room that they hadn't discussed. One of the many Special Unit medical pages flashed into Jake's mind: They had drugged Max long enough to strip him and clothe him in the hospital scrubs, not so different from what Jake had done. In fact, a variant of the sedative gas that had been used on Max was the one that had been used in the motel kidnapping. Jake knew it was relatively safe for the hybrids' physiology, and had used enough to knock them out for a few minutes so the paramedics could do their work in peace.

It wasn't guilt that invaded Jake's heart. It was regret. Regret that they hadn't been able to come up with another scenario that would ensure the kids would understand the peril they were in. It shouldn't matter now.

Yet somehow, it did.

Liz's hand reached for Max's, maybe sensing that what Jake had been talking about, that what had changed involved her husband. Static electricity flew once again between their hands, the crisping sound audible in the silence of the room, but this time they both held onto each other.

"What happened?" Max asked, staring directly into Jake's calm eyes.

"I didn't want to keep you sedated for so long, it wasn't safe." Technically, that was the _honest_ truth, it just so happened to lack the explanation behind it. Maybe he and Dave were more alike than either of them knew. "So Dave had no choice but to let the sedative wear off," Jake continued, neither Max or Liz thinking of asking any further. "You woke up an hour later, barely missing me giving you the serum that interferes with your abilities…"

All this seemed like so long ago, when in fact it had only been a week since all these events had happened. Time always had a funny way of being perceived, Jake knew, but as he regarded these kids in front of him, so young, so vulnerable and inexperienced, he wondered how they regarded the situation as a whole. Months had passed since they had left home, and days since they had accepted Dave's conditions, yet Jake had the distinct notion that they would feel as if a whole lifetime had already passed. Drastic changes usually felt that way.

"You helped him with the rooms, too?" Max asked, frowning a little, as if something in this puzzle didn't make sense.

"No, not really. He gave me every single medical file he could find, and I knew Ray had been in Roswell gathering data for close to two years by then. Dave spied on you first because all he knew was that signals from space were coming to the Earth, and a possible alien deserter was healing kids in Phoenix. He needed to know if you were friends or foes. Were you a real alien invasion, a threat? He had enough information by the time he started planning the rooms that only the smallest details were left to be sorted out. He wanted you to know that there's nothing in your lives that cannot be found. That you cannot hide."

"But if he knew so much about us, then he wouldn't… the interviews wouldn't make sense," Liz said, frowning, probably thinking the purpose of the personal meetings not for the first time.

Jake chuckled. "Of course he doesn't _know_ everything. Certainly not what really matters. He knows what others think of you, but it's not quite the same," Jake said with a slight smile. "That's why he wants to talk to you, privately. To know if his information is accurate or not, and what else he has missed. He wanted to meet you alone that first night. He was very adamant about that, despite Ray's protests about his safety. He trusted that he knew you enough to know his first meeting would go… well, if not smoothly, at least not violently."

Jake's eyes strayed to Max's hands, the bottle still unopened, the water bubbling inside. How could Max boil the water without melting the plastic?

"I was nervous," Jake absently said, his eyes still in Max's hand, though the teen had yet to realize why. "It was close to midnight, and I was sitting at my desk, going through all your numbers and charts from the tests we've done, and all that time I was thinking, "_What if Dave is not good enough? What if these kids choose the road because we went too far?"_

Jake stood up from his place on the couch's arm and went back to the cupboard, thinking that he needed a drink, something he would indulge himself in once he was alone in that room. "Do you want anything to drink?" he said, addressing Liz, who shook her head no. "Something to eat, maybe?" This time the negative came from both of them. He took a Coke thinking he could use the caffeine to calm his nerves. He _knew_ there was something wrong with that thought, but couldn't quite figure out what. It would be more than an hour before he realized that coffee did anything _but_ calm his nerves. _Boiling water. And the plastic is intact…_

He sighed, shaking his head in an effort to clear his mind.

"Once you awoke there, you knew everything there was to know," Jake continued as he walked back to the couch's arm. "Everything had been taken away. Your safety, your friends, your sense of control. Gone. You spent hours there, worrying, wondering… pondering what to do. And then you met him, and he set you free. When you returned to talk to Dave the next day, you knew everything there was to know. He didn't lie about anything he had done."

He let his words sink in for a few seconds. No, it's wasn't fair. No, they had had no right. But fairness and rights were just as much of an illusion as safety and control were, and Jake had been cynical enough since he was 10 to know that. He had no illusions about mankind, something he envied from Dave, and that's why he never did find questionable what he had helped to do to these kids. They had never been in danger, and they were safe now.

"Now you think he has some secret agenda, and he might have for all you know, but you're certain you're safe here, under clear conditions. You expected the worst to happen, and when it didn't, his offer became acceptable. He backed up his knowledge of you with the rooms, and proved his intentions by letting you go."

"As if it were just business," Liz concluded. She was still angry, Jake knew, at how Dave had executed his plan of quite literally stripping away their world. She had every right to be, but had it really been beyond her breaking point, then they wouldn't be having this conversation now.

"Yes," Jake answered. Part of the problem with this whole trust issue, was that they didn't know Dave. His best friend was so used to not being known, he probably hadn't taken the time through those interviews to let them see him. Jake didn't know if it was going to do them any good, but he still wanted these kids to know who they were dealing with and why Dave would honor their deal.

"He's not just some random, eccentric guy who had too much time in his hands and bumped into you," Jake smiled as both Max's and Liz's curiosity spiked. "He deals with a lot of people, moves an incredible amount of information through all the world. If he doesn't keep his word, if he's careless in the slightest way, it would impact hundreds, if not thousands of lives that directly and indirectly are related to what he knows and who he tells. He's a pirate of information, but he understands the weight he can add or take away to all kinds of matters. He's not a child playing with new toys. He looks way further than most people do, beyond what is obvious, and finds ways, hidden meanings, that are just what he needs to keep things in balance in a global scale."

"We are just… one more thing for him, then?" Max asked, not quite convinced of what he had just heard.

"No," Jake firmly said. "No, don't diminish yourselves. You are so unique and have so much to offer. So much to live for if you just have the opportunity to explore your limits. Because despite the shattering and the burning, and you scaring the hell out of me, you have extraordinary gifts that shouldn't be wasted living in fear. Even if you decide to leave this instant, or if in the future we end up on bad terms, I can tell you, right now, that Dave would do this whole circus all over again, because I would do it too."

"Why?" Max whispered, somehow that veil of mistrust slightly fading.

And without hesitation, Jake truthfully answered, "Because it would mean you at least had the chance."

-.-.-.-.-.-.-

**Author's Note:** The line "The pure and simple truth is rarely pure and never simple" is by Oscar Wilde.


	36. Heartbeat pt 1

Thanks for coming back to read! Sorry for the delay, and the short part, but the next one should be on it's way soon. As usual, THANKS A TON for your reviews!!

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**XXXIII**

**Heartbeat**

Despite her best intentions to the contrary, Maria's stomach growled loud enough to make Dave pause and regard her, then glimpse at his watch, and then back at her, the most obvious fact that she was close to being famished making her cheeks blush.

She hated blushing.

Blushing meant that someone else could be privy to the fact that she was embarrassed or that she had been busted doing –or thinking- something she should be ashamed of. Since the moment she had entered that room she had vowed she was not going to fall for this man's antics, and when two hours ago he had offered her something to eat while they were discussing how much was too much in their bank accounts, she had taken it as a way of distracting her from what was important. So she had rather curtly declined his offer.

He didn't offer again.

Maybe she should have asked. She had certainly not been shy about asking when they were bargaining about their bank accounts, nor had she been doubtful about getting some more answers as Dave had started casually flipping pieces while they were nearing a settlement, questions from both of them becoming more personal.

He hadn't been truthful when he had said he lacked passion. Maybe for music, okay, but not when it became about making plans and commitments. He had pointed out that bank accounts were traceable, she had pointed out that it only mattered if they were going to leave in a hurry. What better deal for him then, she had reasoned, than the fact that he would hold their future welfare, securing that way that they would at least leave on good terms?

He had casually stated that diamonds were a good sell in the market. She had said not even Max could make the numbers they would as fast as if they stayed. A year was profitable, five years were just too many $$ on her bank account to back away from Dave's deal without his knowledge.

Dave had regarded her for a long minute. Maria was just oh so aware that Dave had never really cared about if they settled on 7 figures or 8. Money was not a problem for this man, but it was also not something that mattered to him. She knew that because of the lack of wealth around. Sure, the desk alone could very well cost more than her entire house back in Roswell, but nothing about this room screamed _I have money_. It rather quietly whispered _this is business_ or _I am thinking_. Nothing about Dave ever screamed anything… it was all rather subtle. This room was some sort of _Fortress of Solitude_, where the man would sit and contemplate his world, but not where he lived and moved around on a daily basis. On a second thought, maybe it was more like the _Batcave_.

She had wondered if Dave actually had a house. An apartment. A small castle somewhere that he would call home. That he traveled a lot was obvious enough, but did he settle somewhere, a villa in Tuscany or a penthouse in New York? She had tried to imagine what that place would look like as Dave had conceded that a bank account could be some sort of trust pact. It would represent that they both were willing to compromise and would ensure that the end of the deal would be on "good terms", as she had said.

That had been an hour ago, and now that her stomach had completely betrayed her, she had expected him to end the "interview" and let her go. She crossed her arms in a somewhat defiant gesture. Hesitation crossed his eyes. She noticed because it was such a rare and unexpected look that it was impossible to miss. They were standing on opposite sides of the desk, with the enigmatic numbers at his back and the cupboard at hers. She preferred the freedom of walking around and he preferred the freedom of putting his puzzle together.

He reached a conclusion, his eyes moving from her to the door, and then back to her.

"I guess now is as good time as any to end our meeting," Dave finally said, not entirely covering up his hesitation better now than a second before.

She looked him in the eye. "I gather we have a deal with the bank?" she questioned him before making any move to the door. She hadn't spent the better part of an hour arguing about numbers and value for nothing. Dave nodded once. If that wasn't a trust pact, she didn't know what it was.

Oh wait. She actually did: They'd accepted Dave's offer less than a week ago.

For that matter, there had been more arguments about trust issues in the past hour than in the first four, and looking back, Maria wasn't sure if she had covered all she wanted to argue with this man.

"You know, in the really grand scheme of things, you have nothing to lose," Maria had pointed out once the bank issue had been resolved, around the time when her stomach had quietly reminded her that she hadn't had breakfast and was miserably missing lunch too. What he would lose or not had been a point they had discussed before, but she had still been unconvinced by Dave's evasive answers.

"You think so?" Dave had said, seemingly more interested in his puzzle than in her. "I went through two years of surveillance and seven months of infiltrating a US military organization, plus a thousand other things that shall remain nameless for the sake of brevity, because I had nothing to lose?"

"I think that what you're going to earn outweighs any loss," Maria had said as she had watched him fitting yet one more piece into the puzzle.

"Ah, but that doesn't mean I have 'nothing to lose'. If anything, I'm willing to risk a lot to ensure this deal works." His eyes had met hers, thoughtful. "You're risking an awful lot too," he said at length. It had occurred to Maria that this was the first time he had actually considered their side. Her eyebrows shot to her hairline.

"You mean how we're graciously avoiding the fact that you spied on us, kidnapped us, drugged us, and have pretty much been a shadowy menace that we tolerate because we have no choice? You know, just to name a few things for the sake of brevity."

This time, the silence had been longer, though his thoughtful expression hadn't changed through Maria's words.

"Well, since we're on the subject," he had calmly said, as if Maria's last words hadn't had any effect on him, "explain something to me: You were 'spied on' by several people, in different degrees, in the last four years. The former Sheriff Valenti, and for a while Kyle; the Counselor-in-disguise Topolsky, and the Special Unit by extension; the Congresswoman-slash-alien Whitaker and all that entails. A shapeshifter, doubles, the army... even the Evans. Not to mention your very own inside traitor, Tess. And though, according to you I'm not better than the FBI, I'm the one who gets the flames just because I actually gave you the chance to persecute me. And the funny thing is, you did your own spying on at least half of those people. The only thing that separates them from you is how resourceful they were."

"Oh, don't you _dare_ change the subject," Maria had said with bare restraint. "Spying aside, you did worse than any of them!"

Hazel calm had met angry green as their eyes had locked. As he had kept silent, Maria had had a nagging voice reminding herself that, in fact, worse things had been done to the Pod Squad both by the FBI and their alien enemies. Even an innocent mistake by the former Sheriff had sent that Hubble nut-case after Max, and if not for Michael, chances were Max would be already dead. A slight tremor had passed through her spine as she had recalled the very vivid images she had told Dave about Max in that sterile white room, and her wondering -and worrying- that one day it would be Michael.

"You played with us like none of them did," she had said, shaking those thoughts off. Besides, just because everybody else was doing it, that doesn't mean it was okay. And they had spied back to save their own lives, for Pete's sake! Wasn't Dave aware of all those things? "And now you're asking me to explain to you why you're getting 'flamed'? _Please,_ you can't be that dense."

"You're risking an awful lot too because you have an awful lot to gain as well, and I'm not talking just about money." Dave pointed out, as if he had re-taken his early thought and was finally finishing it out loud. "When you returned seven days ago it was with the intention of compromise. You were right about the fact that you didn't have to like the deal, or like me, but the fact that you don't trust me doesn't mean that I'm wrong. That almost all the people that spied on you had very dark intentions that would invariably end with your friends' deaths is not something to take lightly, especially when half of them are still out there." Dave had paused for a moment, as if gathering his thoughts, "If you think, just for a second, that I'm going to hurt them, you would leave in a heartbeat."

_Heartbeat? No, probably a lot less than that._

"They would tear this place down if you so much as threaten us," Maria had said then, pointing out one of those few things that both of them completely agreed on. "So if you think you can get away with spying on us again, or any of all those other things, you'd better think again."

"It won't happen again," he had simply said, silence and tension building up as Maria had been willing herself to believe this man and having no other guarantee than to trust his word. So she had kept arguing, and he had kept going in circles with his own words. They had kept talking about that for the last half hour along with some other things that had led to dead ends, until her stomach had unceremoniously interrupted them.

Now her stomach was growling again, louder this time if that were possible, Dave's eyes meeting hers once more, one eyebrow arched as if asking if she really didn't want to leave and go hunting food. The sharp point of the pencil in her pocket stabbed her for the millionth time, remindeing her she still had one last chance of getting some juicy details.

She smiled. He frowned. She had a slight feeling he found her smiles puzzling. He did tend to frown every time she gave him one of her patented DeLuca grins, she reflected as she finally moved to the door, no good-byes or final last words.

Good.

And then, "Maria," she slowly turned in place. For a second she thought he was about to say something dreadful. She didn't know why, really, but it would just be her luck. On the other hand, he could very well be going to tell her _Happy Birthday_and she was so not wanting to hear that from this man—

"I hope you enjoy your meal."

It was his turn to give a smile that puzzled her. There was a certain mischief underneath this casual remark, but she didn't know what to make of it. What was he implying here? Her stomach gave a final growl that made her say with all confidence, "I'm sure I will."

Turning once more, this time she made it to the door without further interruption. She opened it, went through it, and closed it all without a backward glance. Once out, she closed her eyes and leaned against the closed door with a barely audible sigh. This thing was over, and now she had all the time in the world to figure out what she had seen and what she had learned and—

A soft sound at her left startled her out of her skin, making her heart go a million miles per hour. She frowned once she realized what had caused it: "Michael? What are you doing here?"


	37. Heartbeat pt 2

Thanks for coming back to read!! Here's the next part of chapter 33.

* * *

**XXXIII**

**Heartbeat**

_cont._

_Beep… Beep… Beeeeeeep._

Max kept staring at the microwave long after it had loudly announced that the time was up and he could take the contents out. The beeping had distracted him, bringing half-made memories of an event he couldn't truly recall. It had sounded like a heartbeat. It had sounded as if a heart was actually stopping, with all the dramatic sound effects that movies used to accompany such scenes. Had his heart sounded like that when it had stopped at Pierce's hands?

How fragile it seemed now. A heartbeat.

"Max?"

Liz's voice coming from the other room startled him out of his reverie, making him jump a bit; the lamp over his head brightening for a moment, then flickering for a couple of seconds. He looked up, glaring at it.

"Are you all right?"

This time his wife came through the kitchen door with a bowl in hand. She had been finishing the last touches to the decoration along with Isabel and Kyle in the living room. He was supposed to bring in the melted cheese so they could mix it with nachos.

"Yeah, yeah… I was just… waiting for it…" he absently pointed out behind him with his left hand, in the general direction of the microwave. Though the three of them could melt it by just passing their hands over it, it actually tasted better heating it in a conventional way.

"You were sort of… spacing out for a minute there," Liz said, smiling a little as if afraid he wouldn't take that in a good way. She was feeling a whole lot more from his side of the connection since he had woken up in Jake's lab early that day.

Max shrugged, a bit uncomfortable. "It was just… Jake said…" he looked at his hands, at his feet, at the counter, anywhere but Liz's eyes. He didn't want her to know what he had talked about with Jake. Besides, death was not exactly a subject he wanted to bring up when everyone was trying to be festive and cheerful.

Finally, he turned to look at the microwave, his own heartbeat strangely loud in his own ears. "He said something that didn't make sense," he told her before she had any time to press.

She sat down in one of the seats around the small kitchen table, expectant and a bit fearful. He leaned on the counter beside the microwave, working up the courage to look her in the eye.

"He said that my heart stopped for 28 seconds… when I was in that white… that white room," he swallowed a bit forcefully, Liz's eyes widening a bit. "But how could that be? Michael didn't get the Seal. And I… I don't even remember it."

No, he had a _very_ vivid memory of his death when he had tried to heal Clayton Wheeler, but there was no darkness, no void, when he thought about Pierce. There was a myriad of nightmarish feelings, for sure, but none of them was a perfect match.

"Max…" Liz said, forgetting the bowl on the table as she went to him, knowing full well that this had a lot more to do with Max's fears than the puzzle the Seal presented. As she embraced him, a loud electrical touch made them both wince, though neither let go.

"We really have to stop doing that," Max teasingly said, trying to lighten the mood. Honestly, he had been having electrical shocks with everyone and almost everything metal since leaving Jake's lab. It was starting to be annoying.

"Are you really okay?" Liz's whispered worry was hardly heard. She was hugging him, her head on his chest.

They had left Jake's office more than forty five minutes ago, calling Ray and arriving at the hut with Liz's shopping and Maria's gift fifteen minutes later. They both had agreed that they wouldn't tell anyone about Jake's talk until later that day. Maria's birthday party came first. Besides, Michael would kill them otherwise.

"I'm really fine," Max said soothingly, his eyes drifting to the lamp for a second, his arms protectively around her small body. Truth be told, he felt weird. Not a bad kind of weird exactly, but weird all the same. He had never made a light bulb flicker before just by being startled. He had never noticed before so many details as he was doing now. It was as if he were… overcharged, and over-alert, bustling with electricity and seeing connections he hadn't seen before.

Suddenly, things were… clearer.

"You know, Max, just because your heart stopped, it doesn't mean that your brain stopped, too," Liz's clear voice came through, getting him back to the topic at hand. "You know, you weren't really dead. The Seal had no reason to go."

How did this Seal work, anyway? It hadn't gone to Tess, who should have been the direct heiress to the throne… or Isabel, who would have a blood-tie claim to the crown, at least by human standards… No, it had gone to Michael, but by doing so, it had distorted Michael's own personality. If the Seal would determine their characters, why hadn't Max's changed when he had lost it? Clearer or not, his mind couldn't really come up with a reasonable explanation to the puzzle at hand.

"Do you know why you… fell asleep?"

"I was… tired," Max answered, shrugging a little bit, not really knowing what to say. He had barely gotten any sleep the whole week, and he had gone through a roller coaster of memories and emotions back in Jake's lab, but… This had been an unusual sleep.

Only once had he truly felt such tiredness that he had fallen asleep into a black dreamless state almost immediately: The day he had healed those children in Phoenix. Michael had told him in a rather curt way, to never scare him like that again. Max had felt guilty enough never to try that stunt a second time. Liz had later told him that he couldn't keep doing it because maybe he was messing with a grand scheme of things, but Max already knew he couldn't keep messing with Michael's, Isabel's and Tess' lives. It just wasn't fair, and the desire to go back and heal even just one more child had faded away.

He couldn't recall much about that night. He had a vague memory of Michael urging him to go through a window and landing hard on the ground. Sounds of heavy footsteps running at his side echoed in his mind, and Michael's voice, calling his name and saying things Max hadn't been able to focus on. The last thing he remembered was Michael helping him into the back seat, worriedly asking him if he was all right.

Then it was all black. The next thing he knew was Isabel opening the door, the chill of the night biting at his skin. He had been so cold… He had crashed in his bed barely registering Isabel's questions and Michael's answers. It had been late, probably close to 4 a.m. In four more hours Isabel would wake him up and asked him if he was feeling well enough to make an appearance at breakfast.

He had felt better, but certainly drained. His powers were gone, but that fact was of no consequence while he and Isabel watched the news, silently worrying about who would truly understand what a silver handprint meant. It would be more than 12 hours before he felt close to normal, and just a fraction of his powers were back. Two days before he got them all back, and two days more before he could use them at full potential.

So, no… that sleep and the one he had experienced barely two hours ago had nothing in common. He had come out of this sleep with so much energy, and he wasn't able to fully control it. But it felt… _good._ He felt so rested…

His eyes turned to the door above Liz's head, suddenly aware of Isabel's presence getting near. As if on cue, she entered the kitchen, a smile still on her face about some joke Kyle must have made.

Their eyes met, and Isabel automatically knew something was… amiss. Her smile vanished. Liz disentangled herself from Max, her back still to Isabel's, and Max's eyes widened a little, as if in warning to Isabel. _Don't ask anything right now,_ they said, and Isabel's smile was back in an instant, right in time to meet Liz's eyes.

"Michael's coming," she said, "so we better hurry."

Max felt Liz's heart beating faster as excitement flowed through their connection. Maria was coming, and Liz's anticipation at what Maria would think spiked through. He really, truly hoped that Michael's surprise would go as planned. Liz moved to the microwave without wasting any more time.

"I've got the cheese, you bring more glasses," she said hurriedly as she disappeared into the living room.

"Is something wrong?" Isabel almost whispered, her smile forgotten once more.

"No, no… nothing… We had a talk with Jake, but nothing that can't wait for later," Max said as he turned around to fetch the glasses.

"Max, did something happen?" Isabel asked, this time moving beside him to help him get all the glasses. "Around 10 o'clock?"

Max froze in place, and then turned to look at her. "Did you feel it?"

"I felt something, something that had to do with you… Like… I don't know… as if for an instant you just hadn't been there." Isabel frowned at her own words, not being able to put together what she had felt. "That was it, wasn't it? Whatever happened, had to do with that," Isabel said as she saw recognition in her brother's eyes.

"We'll talk about it, Iz, I promise."

A car parking outside made both siblings look at the window at the same time. "But if we're not out there, Michael's gonna kill us," Max said, half jokingly, half seriously, although Isabel didn't move to leave. "It's nothing bad," he assured her, and oddly enough he thought of his mother, sitting on a park bench while he was telling her the exact same words, "it's nothing dangerous. We're fine."

She reluctantly let it go, and took the lead out into the living room with three glasses, leaving him with another set of three. Isabel had felt it, whatever "it" was, and that scared Max a little. Liz had said that their connection had been low the past days and he hadn't even noticed. What if something more was happening?

As he hurriedly settled the glasses on the table, Liz all but ran to stand behind the door and greet her best friend in the world. He smiled. This whole thing was meant not only to make Maria happy, but to give them all a few hours to try to relax. Because later… Later there was a lot to talk about.

The light above him flickered for an instant, and Max frowned. Was he really that out of control? As he was staring at the lamp on the ceiling, the lamps on the living room flickered too. But he barely had time to register that, as the logs in the chimney spontaneously combusted. As he turned around to look at them –thinking he was really losing it- he realized it had been his sister lighting a fire, making the room atmosphere cozy.

And suddenly he felt Michael. Just as clearly as he had known Isabel was going to come into the kitchen five minutes earlier, Max was dead certain that Michael was just behind that door, and man, was he charged. He was the reason the lamps had flickered, Max unexpectedly concluded, though he had no hope that the incident with the kitchen lamp had been anyone else but himself.

They heard Maria's giggles coming from outside, and that made Michael's energy skyrocket. Michael was nervous, Max knew, but before that door finally opened, Max wondered what Michael had been doing all morning long that would warrant such bottled up force.

By the side-glance that Isabel gave Max, he was fairly sure his sister was feeling something as well.

_What the heck have you been doing, Michael?_ Max thought for a second, and for a moment, he had a very vivid image of two facts: One, the compound was intact after Maria's interview. And two, now Michael was free to let all his tension go… and that might prove devastating for the lonely hut.

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

Many things were happening today. Many indeed.

Michael's heartbeat was going over 100 miles per hour, and he didn't like that one bit. He had been sitting on that couch for an eternity, feeling his nervous, green, electric energy go from one hand to the other as he sat facing Dave's office, his back to the door through which they had first entered this man's domain.

He would have sworn he had been there for more than two hours, even if his watch was telling him it had been less than twenty minutes. His foot was impatiently tapping as he waited for Maria to get out of that damned office and take her to the "party", or whatever it would end up being.

He had wanted to deliver the food to the hut, especially since he was curious to see if the place would meet his expectations, but thought better of it as he recalled Isabel was already there. He would bet all the food that was in the car that Kyle must be going nuts by now. Isabel wasn't just a Christmas Nazi, she was a Decorating/Party/Organizer Nazi.

He shuddered at the sudden thought that, if Vilandra had been anything like Isabel, what would a princess do with such power?

With so much time to kill, Michael's thoughts were driving him crazy. If he was going to be honest with himself, he was also uneasy about Max. He _had_ felt something odd early in the morning, but he had been so concerned about Maria, that he had brushed it off. Now he wasn't so sure if he should have done that, and the idea both scared him and made him feel like he was paranoid. This place was starting to get to him, and the fact that Maria was barely 20 feet from him and still unreachable was doing nothing to make him feel comfortable.

He glanced at his watch: Two minutes after last time.

He groaned inwardly, his tapping the only movement in that place, his slow outflow of breath the only sound keeping him company. He hated waiting. The worst part was knowing something was happening right under his nose and he couldn't figure out what.

When he had been ready to take Danielle's precious knives and melt them into the next pot that crossed his eyes around 10:30 a.m., the two Network Keepers he had met earlier had passed by with an almost haunted look in their eyes. And they had been whispering about Dave. He had had half a mind to simply ask them what was up or follow them, but right on cue the timer rang, reminding him his cake was ready… and the rest of the food wasn't.

He had made a mental note of scouting the Geeks' Quarters at the next available opportunity, which would probably be tomorrow morning, when Max was going to be up here.

Max.

Michael's mind tried to return to whatever he had felt from his Fearless Leader that morning, and came up empty. Michael humorlessly chuckled. He guessed it _had_ been an empty feeling. He shook the highly uncomfortably thought off.

Sometimes Michael thought he would follow Max till the end of time just because Max was way too naïve and too good for his own good; and sometimes, Michael just wanted to strangle him for his stubbornness and passive decisions, but one thing was sure: Wherever they'd end up and whoever they'd become, as long as they stuck together, they'd make it.

He just hoped this whole thing with Dave had been the right choice.

Tactically speaking, Michael could see where Max was coming from, but that didn't mean that a) Max hadn't made a mistake, and b) that there were too many variables still unknown to them for Michael to be comfortable in the least. They had given up freedom for security. Hadn't someone already said something about that? "Those who would trade freedom for security deserve neither"?

Michael's right foot stopped tapping. His left foot took its place.

It wasn't exactly a pleasant thought. He could turn it around and think that they had exchanged knowledge for a chance. Jake would sooner or later get down to business, and that would give them time to learn how to defend themselves, a better chance at life and how to defend their freedom.

They would have been caught. No matter how philosophical he could get, or how many quotes were swarming in his mind, there was no doubt in Michael's head they would have been caught once Liz's power had run dry. Part of him still argued at night that they'd had a better chance on the road, but Michael kept going back to those hours in that blue room, to the emptiness of not knowing what was going on with Maria and the rest of the group.

Michael had come to terms a long time ago, in that summer from hell after Nasedo had infiltrated the Special Unit, that maybe someday either Max or Isabel or himself were going to get caught again, and that a white, bare, sterile room would be the only thing in their future. He didn't like to acknowledge that possibility, but had accepted that it was there.

But what he couldn't – wouldn't - even consider was that Maria would face that same destiny. It was one thing to be born into the whole mess, and completely another to be sucked into it. At least Liz and Kyle had an "excuse" to be around, since they had been changed. But Maria? Maria could turn around in the next town, disappear on her own, and get a normal guy, a white picket fence, and a bunch of kids who wouldn't explode things with their minds.

She still could have a normal life.

And a normal birthday.

He would have asked her already if she wanted to marry him if only that tiny little voice at the very back of his mind didn't whisper from time to time that Maria still had a chance out. She had never pushed it, and it probably had a lot to do with the fact that she was turning 19, and it had never been her goal in life to be married so young. He knew, beyond a doubt, that even if he proposed the minute she stepped out of that office, she would laugh it off, and then seriously considering it, would tell him no. She was not ready. Probably he wasn't either.

The funny thing was, they pretty much already lived like a married couple. He looked down at his own gray metal ring and wondered what it would look like in thin gold. Sometimes, he had caught sight of Max staring at his own wedding band. Sometimes Max had smiled, others had looked thoughtful.

What a mess they were in.

That thought had little to do with Dave and the whole deal. It had to do with Max, Isabel and himself trying to live a human life, while their alien side dictated what they should do first. And second. And last. They had sucked three unsuspecting lives into an abyss that was out of anybody's control, not counting that Alex and Tess were already dead.

It wasn't a game. It never had been. While Max and Isabel had loved their make-believe life, Michael had always known the dangers that their lives entailed. In a way, in a very ironic way, he'd always been their guardian. The one who knew the dangers, and sought them and fought them. The general who worked under his commander's orders to keep their happy lives in place.

He was doing a lousy job, if that was the case.

He was doing a lousy job at keeping everyone safe, at keeping Maria happy, and he was more than certain that he was making an incredibly lousy job of making this birthday a good one. Not a _normal_ one, he wasn't aiming that high, just a good one. And he was still sucking at it.

Maybe it was in his genes, or in his stars, or in his luck. Maybe he was doomed to never get it right. How long ago had he seen Maria smile? That soul-warming smile she had had in those early days, when knowing he was an alien had been an exciting adventure? When breaking into an apartment had been like "Mulder and Scully"?

If he could only bring back that smile again… Had he messed up things so bad in her life that even hoping for a smile had gotten so complicated?

Michael rubbed his face with a tired hand. A low sound snapped his eyes open, and he silently watched Maria coming out of the office, all stoic face and straight walk, not giving a glance back, just to close it behind her and then… then it was all gone, and Michael got to see the vulnerable side of his lovely Maria.

Not a crying-I'm-falling-apart side, no, Maria would rarely –if ever- show that side. She looked as if she had been through a war zone and only now was letting the events catch up with her. It was the tired look one got once a very stressful event had just finished, only to know that the battle had been won but not the war.

It was the same tired look Michael had worn when he had –finally!- exited Danielle's kitchen half an hour ago.

He got up and went to her with all the intention of hugging her. Of telling her how sorry he was her birthday had to be a crappy one, and most of all, just to show her how much he loved her.

But Maria's face was shocked at first, and annoyed a second after, as he had _unintentionally_ startled her.

"Michael? What are you doing here?"

He halted. Frowned. And just opened his arms in a gesture that could be interpreted in a thousand different ways. Whatever Maria's mood was, he was not going to make the mistake of thinking he could read her like a book. He would let Maria decide what his gesture meant, and then take it from there.

She went to him, and just when he thought she was going to hug him, she punched him in the shoulder.

"I could've found my way back, you know. I don't need a bodyguard, for crying out loud. How many times have I told you I'm no damsel in distress? And—"

Michael tuned her down. He almost rubbed his face once more, in an attempt to understand how was best to proceed here, but refrained from doing so since he knew Maria hated it when she thought he wasn't paying attention.

"I got you a present," Michael finally interrupted her in mid-sentence, just as she was about to walk towards the elevator that would take them down to the underground complex. He could not blow his only chance of getting her out that place, at least for one afternoon.

She turned around with narrowed eyes. Then a small, tentative smile widened on her face. "You did?"

How innocent she could look in an instant. She all but batted her eyes at him. Michael's heartbeat doubled at the thought that his present was not going to be enough. A thought that had nothing to do with the party preparation at the hut, and all to do with the small bundle in his pocket.

"I did," he smiled back, swallowing his doubts. He opened his arms again, though this time signaling the door.

Maria froze, her smile faltering.

"What— what do you mean? Outside?"

_Don't worry, we've got permission_, Michael's cynic voice said out loud in his head, and he bit his tongue before he could say it out loud for real. Now was not the moment to get into a rant about what he thought about this whole situation and the fact they couldn't even go outside without worrying sick.

"It's part of the surprise," he said, pasting a smile he hoped would convince her he was serious.

"Oh, hell no. I haven't spent two hours talking to that man, positively famishing while securing our financial future to get it all wasted on—"

She was bound to keep babbling if he let her, he knew. Countless hours of experience had shaped his sense of Maria's Rant Mode. Inside Dave's office, Dave paused his typing for a moment as the lamp flickered for a couple of seconds.

"Maria," Michael said with a rather tired look, his nerves being really close to just snap after an entire morning of being restrained. If he so much as heard one more word in French… "Just trust me."

Maria stopped in mid-sentence, a bit surprised. Maybe it was the way he had said it, maybe it was the way he was just signaling the door, maybe it was something entirely absurd and unknown to him, but Michael didn't care why Maria actually shut her mouth and, after a glance back to Dave's office, she finally moved.

He inwardly sighed. It would take him ten minutes of arguing in the car that she _could NOT_ eat what was in the containers until they reach their destination, after which she said either she'd eat something from there, or she would just get out of the car and go to the Cafeteria. Alone.

He gave her bread. She glared at him. The entire road to the promised hut was spent with Maria arguing that prisoners _at least got water to go with the cold bread._ He had _not_ spent an entire morning cooking and suffering that damned French cook for Maria to just grab a bite here and there without seeing the entire picture first. Just… _no_.

But by the time they reached the place, they both looked at it with contemplative eyes. It really didn't look like much. In fact, the place looked like it hadn't been used in a while. All of Michael's fears about messing this day up came rushing back to him, his heartbeat doubling in his ears. What if Maria hated the place? What if the food wasn't good enough? What if he had forgotten the eggs in that stupid cake? What if—

Maria giggled.

And then giggled some more.

And in that moment, when their eyes met and she smiled at him, one of those bright, sunny smiles of hers, everything just melted away: The hut, the snow, the party, the complex, the deal. Everything. He didn't care why she had smiled, just that she had, because it meant things could still go all right. Because she could still find something to laugh at while being with him.

Because it meant that, after all, he was doing something right.

* * *

AN: The quote "those who would trade freedom for security deserve neither" is by Benjamin Franklin.


	38. Gifted pt1

Please, a stand up ovation for all the betas in the world, who sacrifice time, neurons and effort on reading for us, writers, and make sense of our chaos :)

Please, a stand up ovation for all the betas in the world, who sacrifice time, neurons and effort on reading for us, writers, and make sense of our chaos... :D As usual, thanks to **KathyW** and **Michelle in Yonkers** for their invaluable work. (All writers should beta some time, just to see how hard it really is :P)

Thanks for coming back to read!! As usual these days, this is the first part of the chapter :sorry:

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.-.-.-.

**XXXIV  
Gifted**

.-.-.-.

Things never were what they seemed, especially with Dave.

Jake didn't have to be told twice to know that. No, the 43 year-old man who was sipping his hot chocolate as he stared at his closest friend in the world, and the greatest enigma there had ever been, knew better. After being friends for almost 32 years now, watching Dave working so absorbed in front of the computer brought old memories to the good doctor. Memories he hadn't visited in a long time, mostly because they were memories of a past he wished he could just bury and never look back.

The ironic thing was that, because he so conveniently chose to ignore these past facts, he would sometimes miss signs from the present. Dave had always been… tenacious, in a way. Once his mind was set on something, it would seem he could get the Universe to conspire with him to get it. And sometimes, it scared Dave himself.

He had told him so once, when they were still young, as young as the kids they had so gracefully trapped. _I'll do anything for the right reasons, Jake_, Dave had said looking out at the sea, his eyes so far away in some inner world where Jake would never reach him, except when Dave chose to share it with him. _Anything. But what happens if the right reasons are not really right? What do I do then?_

Nineteen years later, Jake knew that dark inner doubt was very much alive in Dave's soul. What happened if he set his mind to something, just to realize he had been wrong? And now the stakes were much higher than ever before, because now Dave could do almost anything he really wanted to. He had the mind to do it, the resources, the contacts, and God help them all, he also had the will.

Lately, the _right reasons_ were orbiting around six teens, and though Jake didn't really know why exactly, he should have known since the beginning that Dave really considered he was doing something _right_. It was all there: The carefulness with which he had thought the whole thing through; the long period while he'd watched and made sure of every move; and even now, the interest, the time he was investing. The insight he was gaining with these seemingly endless interviews had a whole other level of importance than just to test the kids.

Dave glared at his screen for a second before resuming his typing. Jake chuckled to himself, and then grew thoughtful.

Maybe Dave wasn't sure. Maybe he was still afraid that whatever move he was planning for the future was going to tip the odds in the wrong direction just because he _thought_ he had the right reasons. Or whatever was in store for these kids was not exactly on the bright side of things, and so Dave didn't like where his right reasons were leading him. Or maybe Jake just wanted to believe his friend hadn't gone over to the Dark Side and was grasping at straws here…

It just wasn't like Dave to go over the Dark Side, and Jake knew it. If it weren't a really creepy and scary possibility, he would even have joked with him that maybe he had been body-snatched. Except there was too much of Dave in there to be anyone but Dave, so no, it just couldn't be.

Dave stopped in mid-typing, his eyes going round almost as if in shock. Then he frowned, his mouth opened just half an inch, and a second later, he frowned even deeper. It was all rather comical, really, and it had been a long while since Jake had been witness to a bewildered Dave.

"You're so amusing to watch," Jake said, taking another sip while Dave continued typing, this time slower.

"This kid knows his business… but he's not interested in money," Dave half whispered as his typing almost stopped. "What the hell is he doing?"

It was a rhetorical question.

"Why do you think it's a boy?" Jake asked, intrigued by Dave's deductive instincts.

"A grown man or woman would have tried this earlier. You don't wake up consummate hacker one morning, so I would have known about him before. He's too audacious for his own good… girls are more careful. They must be born with a conspiracy gene or something…"

Jake smiled as Dave trailed off. "You're amusing to hear," he said as he continued sipping his hot chocolate. Dave barely grunted in acknowledgement as he resumed his faster pace with the keyboard.

_"Why do they call it 'rose', if it is 'red'?" six year-old Dave asked, his hazel eyes eager for an answer, while holding a red rose in his right hand. He had been asking that all day long, Jake knew, because Dave was always full of random questions like that, and wouldn't let it go until someone finally answered. They had known each other for less than a week, but this was more than just a passing curiosity. Dave was going to be curious his entire life, Jake had known._

_"Because the color was named after the flower was named. And see?" Jake had said picking up a yellow rose, "They can't be called 'red' because roses come in different colors as well. Rose is just one more color."_

And that had been it. Jake had had his answer, and there was no one more wonderful in the entire world than him. It had probably been the first time Dave had seen roses to begin with, and that was why his fascination with the subject. Oh, he had gotten obsessed with roses for about a month. Only once he had gotten to know everything there was to know about the love flower had he moved on to his next fixation. No wonder Jake found Dave's focus so normal now; he had seen all levels of obsession in his friend for a long, long time.

So why was it so difficult to trust him right this moment? If Jake knew Dave so well, why couldn't he bring himself to tell him all the dark whispers that haunted his mind at night? Why was Jake so afraid of finally hearing the truth from Dave just to find out that yes, Dave's intentions weren't that good?

Doubt was preferable right now, really, but Jake couldn't settle for that. Not after what had happened at the lab early that morning; not with the kids so stressed out that, honestly, the best place they could be now was anywhere but here. And here was the only place Dave wanted to have them.

Still, Jake remained passively watching because Dave was fending off some kid on the net who was actually threatening some of Dave's codes. And when Dave was immersed in his virtual world, no one would get him out. Oh, Jake could try, and would probably get a sentence or two out, as he had done just now with the "boy" question, but beyond that? Uh-uh, it was a lost cause. Dave's attention skills were something stunning.

Back when they were kids, Dave would sometimes go so much into himself that his eyes would become… vacant… almost lifeless, and it had scared Jake out of his skin every single time. He would have sworn then that Dave was going some place where he would never come back. A black void or something. One of the psychologists had said that it could be related to the fact that Dave had never really gotten over the trauma of losing his parents in such a violent way, and someone else had implied that Dave might have had survivor's guilt syndrome.

Jake never really knew. He had been just 12 when he had first met Dave, and everything he had heard then sounded plausible and scary. Maybe that was why he had gotten the mental image that Dave's dreams were filled with dark voids. As they had gotten older, and even afterwards, when they had been free to choose their own lives, Jake had kept a watchful eye. Had Dave gotten survivor's guilt, he would be working to achieve self-destruction, and Dave was certainly not looking to ruin himself.

It was probably just one of Dave's quirks, Jake thought. He hadn't seen Dave doing that catatonic-like stunt for years now, and in retrospect, Dave had probably done it to piss them off. They couldn't get any answers if Dave's mind wasn't there to begin with. And if Dave had known one thing since he could remember, it was that his mind was the most valuable thing he had, and boy, did he know how to protect it.

Dave tiredly sighed. "He's given up… for now." He rubbed his eyes for a second, and then stared at the monitor for a full minute, almost as if making sure the intruder was really gone. "The Keepers are going to be on the look out from now on, but I'm gonna have Richard trace him."

Jake's eyebrows arched. Dave had a lot of respect for their administrator for the sole reason that Richard had been able to track him down once, so this… "honor" of letting Richard into the hunt was a rare one.

"He's impressed you."

"He's broken half of my level five codes. If I don't get to him first, someone else will…" A pause. Then, "Maybe he's smart enough to not let himself get caught," Dave said as an afterthought. "But this is boring to you, tell me what's been going on."

Well, no, not boring, really. If Dave's small empire was compromised, then Jake's life would be compromised as well. So everything dealing with keeping Dave's security up was of interest to anyone under Dave's wing. Still, Jake had come here for a reason, and since his friend was finally closing his laptop, he was not going to waste time on matters that weren't a priority right now.

"I want to call a truce," Jake finally said as he set his now empty mug aside on the counter.

"You are having a fight with someone?" Dave asked puzzled, "Who?"

"You."

Whatever Dave was going to say died on the tip of his tongue. And then, there it was, that hurt look that he got when someone he cared about was telling him something Dave couldn't really comprehend, but that knew he wouldn't like. Understanding seemed to finally settle on his features two seconds later.

"The kids." It wasn't a question. "What did I do now?" Dave asked, half jokingly, half exasperated.

"They are 'this close' to their breaking point, it's not even funny," Jake said, mimicking with his index and thumb the little time there was left for them, "and I'm going around in circles, trying to find a way to convince them that all we have are good intentions, but then… then I'm not sure anymore. And if I'm not sure, how can I assure them in return? I feel like I'm battling you and your shadow in every single word I say to them. I need to know your intentions. I need to know that we're doing the right thing here."

"You're not sure this is the best thing for them?" Dave slowly asked, as if this was something they had discussed and settled ages ago. Which, they had, Jake admitted, but Jake had been under very different assumptions then.

"I'm not sure why we're taking such extreme methods to make them believe we're telling them the truth," Jake said, they both very serious now. "They never wanted to be here, never wanted to trust us, never even wanted to explore their own limits. Everything we have to offer has nothing to do with what they desire. We just… we just took… manipulated really, what we knew they wanted, and turned it so we could get what we wanted. Except, at the end of the day, they're not happy here. Why should they stay then? Why don't you just let them go and protect them from the world from a distance? Weren't you somehow doing that before?"

Dave let go a humorless laugh. "I wish it were that easy." Jake frowned. "I really do wish it were that easy, Jake," Dave said, a little bit offended that his friend wouldn't believe his words. He stood up, closing his laptop all the way, and placing it inside the middle drawer.

"It was easier before, when we were still gathering information, because they could pretty much deal with their own enemies by themselves. The Sheriff was there to help them, at least while he was Sheriff… They were lying low, hardly looking for trouble… And then they blew up an Army base." The drawer closed with a loud _click._

"You're right," Dave continued, still standing, both men facing each other some 12 feet apart. "They have no reason to be here but for the fact that out there would mean much worse things." Dave paused, his eyes getting lost somewhere behind Jake.

"We're so damned gifted sometimes I do believe the world is out to get us, Jake…" Dave almost whispered, his train of thought having taken him somewhere Jake could not reach. He hated how Dave could go in zigzag through his own thoughts, saying apparently unconnected things. But his eyes re-focused on the older man, his expression still serious. "If I thought they had a chance out there, I would have done so. As it is, I'm placing you in the middle of the lion's den, I'm playing spy agency for the Special Unit so I can keep an eye on things outside, and I have to deal with…" Dave stopped, as if suddenly realizing he should be choosing his words.

"Deal with…?" Jake prompted.

"Deal with kids," Dave finally said, his eyes going down to his desk, the endless search for puzzle pieces beginning once more. "Kids that have no clue what's best for them, who to trust, what to learn… God, they were sitting ducks out there. And you know what? They remind me of you and me twenty-five years ago, sitting ducks as well. We wouldn't have trusted anyone back then. We wouldn't right now either."

That one last sentence took Jake by surprise. It was true. It was so darned true that outside Dave, Jake wouldn't trust his life and his knowledge in the hands of anyone else, even after all these years.

"So, why does it matter if I'm the bad guy?" Dave said nonchalantly, taking one piece for close examination. "That means you're the good guy."

"That means I work for the bad guy, not that this is the right place for them," Jake emphasized, clearly not following Dave's logic. "I'm not even going to tell you what happened today at the lab to get this point through that stubborn head of yours, but if you keep this up, they're going to leave in the middle of the night, scared to death that you will follow, and you will have no chance whatsoever of convincing them to come back!"

"You're wrong," Dave quietly said, his eyes searching in the sea of pieces the one that would fit in the vacant space he had in front. "They accepted thinking the deal was far darker than it turned out to be. They're getting bolder, snappier and more confident around here because they're trusting they made the right choice. If they thought, for one moment, that I would harm them, they would be out of here in a heartbeat. Even Maria agrees with me on that one," Dave concluded with a slight smile. Then he stopped staring at the pieces, his eyes losing focus for second.

"What is it, Jake?" Dave finally asked, turning to look at him, the puzzle forgotten. "You're way more upset than any other time. Did something happen?"

_You have_ no _idea_. But now was the time for Jake to carefully lay his arguments and get a straight answer from his friend.

"When you first approached me, you asked if I would be interested in working with 'gifted' kids, knowing full well that I would die for the opportunity. Why didn't you tell me they didn't want to work with me?"

"You wouldn't have accepted," Dave said, his eyes never straying from Jake's. "You're the best person in the whole world to work with them. I couldn't risk you saying 'no'," Dave shrugged, "and once you met them, you wouldn't let them go."

It hurt to know that Dave had so openly deceived him, but it actually hurt a whole lot less than learning he had some dark reason for wanting Jake out of the loop. Yes, he would not only have declined to participate, he would have condemned him, especially with their own pasts as examples. But one answer was not all Jake wanted now.

"Okay," Jake said, nodding once. "So, what happened on that trip to Japan?" For the past days, Jake had been collecting clues, little hints here and there of what Dave had been doing for the past two years; it had all started with Dave bumping into the kids by accident, but then things had changed.

"What?" Dave said, confused, clearly not following Jake.

"Ray told me you went on a trip to Japan about a month after you discovered the Phoenix records. And you went from cautious observer, to obsessive stalker by the time you came back. _Something_ happened on that trip, and if you really meant that I'm the best person to take care of them, you'll tell me the truth, right now."

Silence met Jake's words. It would look as if Dave were slightly stunned by Jake's revelation, but for all Jake knew, it could be Dave was wondering why on Earth Ray had noticed his change after a trip to anywhere. Dave tended to focus on the most absurd things sometimes.

He actually sat down while Jake's piercing eyes never left his face. Even if Dave was a really good liar, there were still telltales that more than 30 years of friendship could not erase, and right now Jake was being very watchful.

"I realized I was going to be responsible for the men and women they'll become."

Jake blinked. Dave smiled. "That doesn't explain… anything," Jake finally managed to say, waiting for something more from his friend. Dave's smile vanished.

"Right now, all they know is how to duck and wish for things to go away. The problem is, that's not going to be good enough in the long run. They're so damned gifted that if word gets out, they'll be wanted from here to the Middle East. And one day, they're going to be in a position where someone is going to corner them and make them do _any_thing. We were lucky Jake. We were kids, we didn't know what was going on half the time and certainly, we barely had a life before to miss."

"But they do," Jake said, narrowing his eyes, "So why are you doing this?"

"So they won't end like us, I guess," Dave shrugged with an air of someone who wasn't completely sure about his own words. He sighed in that way that Jake recognized as Dave reluctantly arriving at some confirmation. "I took them because someone was bound to do it, and that someone was going to be responsible for shaping what they'll want ten years from now. At least I'll give them the chance to make an educated guess where they should be going. That's way more than anyone would ever offer to them, and certainly more than anyone offered us."

Jake was disconcerted. It was one thing that he felt he had been cheated in life because he had missed a normal childhood and adolescence, but he had never suspected Dave would project himself into anyone, much less hybrid kids, who were really young adults and were hardly defenseless. Jake had always known Dave's view of the world had come from his parents, from way before they had met, and that despite the years where his intelligence had been used on things that would hardly reconcile with Dave's parents' views, Dave had always tried to stay on that path.

Maybe, after all, those psychologists had been right about Dave still dealing with some trauma, something to do with his childhood that he had never been able to get over. Of course, hell would freeze over before Dave would go to see a "head" doctor. He had never felt therapy could be of any use.

"Why didn't you tell me?" Jake asked, finally feeling, in some way, betrayed. They were friends, and after all the dark thoughts, all the secrecy, all those _doubts… _

"I thought you knew," Dave said, arching his eyebrows. "I mean, I knew you didn't know they weren't looking forward to be here, but once they were… You even asked me about it on Monday, and I told you I wanted to protect them from the world."

_Yes you did, I just didn't believe you then,_ Jake thought to himself, now feeling guilty.

"What?" Dave said, now suspiciousness filling him, "What did you think I wanted?"

"Well, you _did_ withhold information from me, and I'm not letting you off the hook for that… but I… I didn't know… You've been working for this for far too long, and there are just too many things that can happen… I guess it was just… a misunderstanding."

"A misunderstanding? And they say you're 'gifted'? Where are your neurons when you need them?" Dave said, his attention back to his puzzle.

Jake watched him for a whole minute, wondering why he had gotten so suspicious, and if he had been so out of touch with Dave that he had really missed the motives behind this. Could it really be that simple? Jake convinced himself it really was, that it _had_ to be a misunderstanding even if it had been really mean of Dave to not tell him about the kids' motives from the beginning.

One thing he would concede to Dave, though, was that they had accepted thinking it was a far worse deal, and now it was up to Jake to let them know they had made the right choice. Feeling calmer now, he was ready to explain the day's events, starting with Max's visit, and ending with Liz's visit. If anything, Dave had to be aware that his plan was not so solid after all.

Had he been paying really close attention to Dave's eyes though, he would have read the quiet but solid fear behind them. _Don't let your neurons get any further than this, Jake, because I really can't tell you more. For your own safety, buy the half-truths I've given you and don't ask more questions. Not even I'm gifted enough to get you out of that kind of trouble._


	39. Gifted pt 2

**XXXIV**

**Gfited**

_cont._

.-.-.-.

If there was something that would make Kyle Valenti smile, it was a good birthday cake. And he had to hand it to Michael, this was one grin-inducing birthday cake, complete with the chocolate frosting and just the right amount of spiciness.

The spiciness scared Kyle a little bit, though. Prior to his close encounter of the third kind with the Pod Squad, Kyle hadn't really liked much spicy food. Now he seemed to be able to spice almost every single edible thing without a second thought.

Of course, the one saving grace here was to watch how Michael, Max and Isabel would pass the Tabasco sauce from hand to hand, and nonchalantly spice their milk at breakfast, their lemonade at lunch and chocolate bars at dinner, which made Kyle's stomach groan. He wasn't _that_ far gone. Yet. And he was confident there would never come a time when he would do the same. He was, still, just an average guy who had developed a taste for the spicy.

And let's keep it like that, thank you very much.

He really wasn't looking forward to the kind of life his three hybrid friends had, either worrying someone would find out about their secret, or worrying for the safety of those who knew and loved them. Granted, he was half-way there, but if his "powers" stayed where they were right now, and no more sparking green ever came his way, then he still had a shot at living a pretty normal life. Maybe not now, and maybe not in five years... but what about in ten? Or fifteen? What about when this whole thing was over, when he was ready to settle down, and when he met that special girl who would want to spend her life with him?

A girl who hadn't been a queen of some alien world, nor the life-long crush of the king of said alien world. There was something ironic about the fact that he had fallen in love with both the once and the future queen of Antar, not to mention his short lived fantasy of Antar's current princess. My God, he was so tangled up in the alien chaos it wasn't even funny. At this rate, the only woman he was close to and who didn't have ties to a far, far away world was Maria, and for all he knew, she was already his step-sister.

His love-life sucked.

But at least the birthday cake was mouth-watering. He really had to give Michael that.

In fact, the entire lunch had pretty much been one heavenly flavor after another. That pasta had been _the_ most exquisite Italian cuisine he had ever tasted. Not that Kyle had an ample amount of experience in eating pasta, of course, but it had felt like some sort of capital crime to waste any sauce-dripping, slightly spicy, cream colored spaghetti.

God, he had eaten way too much. But the cake was still making puppy eyes at him. _Eat me, I'm delicious! Eat me!_ it was practically begging him, and since Michael was not going to cook like this for a very long time, Kyle knew he had to eat it now or regret it forever.

And regret was not high on his list.

So it was with painful slowness that he started to go through his piece of cake. In fact, it was with painful slowness that everything seemed to be going. It was as if the six of them didn't want the moment to end. This bubble of jokes, and cake, and teasing, forgetting where they were and why.

Back in high school, it had rather been the opposite. Days would usually go by uneventfully… weeks could go by without anything remotely alien happening. Of course, it never lasted, but the moments of true tension, of life-and-death situations seemed like the bubbles then. Terrible bubbles that would somehow just… pass. They would manage in the end.

Except life wasn't that simple, and now Kyle knew better than to take for granted these moments of tranquility. Moments when seeing Isabel snap her fingers to light the candles while Max and Michael darkened the windows to make the room atmosphere appropriate were just as normal as singing Happy Birthday.

Maria had been thrilled. She had swatted Michael for keeping it all a surprise and scaring the hell out of her, thinking he was taking her away from this place on some romantic escapade. She didn't have to say what it could have meant if they had gone out of here without Dave's knowledge, they all knew, but all that was said about Dave's interview was a dismissive, _"Oh, it was nothing,"_ from Maria when Liz had asked, followed by a _"Are those for me?"_ as she made a bee line to her presents.

It had been Maria who had made the bubble with that statement, really. They all had taken the cue about not talking about Dave, and Kyle had seen Michael relaxing at that. It was more than obvious that the man wanted this day to be perfect, and Kyle could almost swear that there was a vein slightly jumping in his forehead. Michael had spent the entire morning cooking, for all Kyle knew, but having Maria talking with Dave had been Michael's real stress source.

Not that Michael was _ever_ going to tell Kyle about a certain French cook, uh-uh.

And the truth was, it felt great. This little bubble of theirs, this distraction from things that had been and things to come was just what they needed. He couldn't possibly imagine celebrating Maria's birthday in such a carefree way, had they been any other place. The FBI had ambushed them less than two weeks ago, and they had been so scared that all they could think about was staying ahead. There was so much tension among them one could slice it with a knife.

Even Christmas had been a tough time last year. Missing home, missing real freedom. Fearing every face on the street, fearing their future. Heck, even fearing thinking about next week. And with Liz's powers almost gone, things had seemed pretty grim. Was this the way their lives were going to be from now on? Running until there was no more road? Always looking over their shoulder and fearing the worst?

Well, no, but Dave's offer wasn't exactly a dream come true. It was just easier, Kyle guessed, because they knew where they were standing. If for nothing else, they knew the FBI was not going to catch them. And Kyle had to admit, since Dave had implied that he had a future in engineering, Kyle had been dreaming about that.

He had been told he had gifted hands when it came to mechanics and fixing things. He had even found Auto Shop relaxing. That had been one of the main reasons he had taken that job with Toby to begin with. Of course, later he thought it was a crappy job, and a few months after that, he thought there was no future in it. Yet he couldn't deny there was a certain private satisfaction every time he could make a car roar to life.

So thinking there was potential in becoming an engineer if he could set his mind to it, was actually a pretty sweet deal. It made him wonder if he really could pull it off and what would it mean once this whole thing with Dave was over.

He suspected the others were thinking about it too. Maybe not in the same way he was, but certainly about _having_ a future. Sure, they were more inclined to believe that darkness surrounded everything Dave had to offer, but if half of what Dave said was true… they were in for an interesting future.

Though now that Kyle was thinking about it, when it came to his favorite alien trio, the future had always been interesting.

Kyle stopped eating his cake for a minute and just looked at his friends. It was weird to think their three hybrid friends held so much power. Not only in the literal I-can-obliterate-you kind of way, but in the fact that they were _royalty._ If an Antarian rebel ship landed right this moment, their every word would be considered the law. Or something like that.

It was something they didn't talk about much. Max had "given up the throne" that day outside the "pod chamber" –of all places- and he had dejectedly admitted that they really weren't what they had once been told they were: He was not a king, Isabel was not a princess and Michael was not his second in command. Somehow, Kyle doubted that mattered. As far as Antar knew, they still had their royalty lost in some God forsaken planet, where the bad guys wanted to kill them so they could keep the throne, and the good guys wanted to bring them back so they could rule. Why would it matter what Max had said one windy day back in June?

Kyle wondered if they thought about it. About their "other home" and their "other lives". When he had been younger, Kyle had hated how everyone had been expecting him to follow in his father's –and grandfather's- footsteps and become a deputy. Maybe Kyle would have given it a thought had not every single set of eyes in town been waiting for it. Yet Kyle couldn't compare that feeling with the expectations on his hybrid friends' shoulders. It had to suck to be the ruler of a place you couldn't even remember.

Kyle guessed it also sucked to be chased all over the place because they were on the wrong planet. Here they were, with powers that practically were full of practically endless possibilities, and more likely than not an entire army at their disposal some thousands of light years away, and it didn't matter. It didn't make one inch of a difference. They had to defend themselves and remain hidden, and God forbid they dare think about a future.

No wonder Isabel had been so pissed when she had wanted to leave after Alex had died. Kyle guessed she had realized then how utterly stuck they were. Or rather… _not_. That was the absurdity of it all. Had their last summer not ended with assassination attempts, Max would have probably gone to Northwestern with Liz, Michael would have stayed in Roswell with Maria, and Isabel would have gone with Jesse to Boston. What unit? What stuck together?

Well, it really didn't matter. They _were_ stuck together now. And Kyle liked that. He would never admit it out loud –hardly admitted it to himself- but he felt somehow relieved that he had ended up stuck with them for the time being. There had been nothing big or adventurous or anything really worthwhile back in his hometown and his hometown life. Up until the moment that Kyle had actually decided to go with them all, he hadn't truly understood Alex's words that day in the cave:

_Take a step away from your life, Kyle. You know, I mean, you're part of this...this amazing thing. This... amazing knowledge that you have that 6 billion people on this planet don't. _

Sure it sucked for his love-life that he had ended up being involved in one way or another with Antar's royalty, and sure the thought of those green sparks kept him awake half the night, but… but… He wasn't really sure but what. This adventure had turned out to be way more than he had ever thought, and once he had started sparking green he hadn't had much choice, but… craziness aside, life was anything but boring.

He guessed the big question was what did he want out of life? Not even Dave knew that. Dave knew what they needed right now, but not what they wanted. Maybe that was what Dave had been fishing around for in his interviews, to have a better bargain ready when they finally decided to leave. He had offered them the present this time around, why not the future next time?

Looking at his three "gifted" friends laughing about some childhood memory they were now sharing with the group, Kyle allowed himself to think that, if his powers did actually show up, maybe it wouldn't be so bad either. They all three had found love, hadn't they? As long as Kyle could keep secret his new emergent powers, maybe someday that girl who was destined to be with him would accept him and love him the more for it…

Maybe it would be some girl that Max would happen to save and so she would be stuck with them and… well, she would be gifted as well, so they would be the perfect match. Maybe she was going to be gifted in the way she would be able to put up with his alien friends and she would love spicy food as well. Kyle smiled at that: Be on the look out for one spice-loving girl.

Nowadays, along with his future and the future mother of his kids, Kyle had also started to believe that he had been gifted with the chance of _growing._ Of learning and cherishing his time with his friends. Because, who knew? In ten or fifteen years, this whole thing could just be a memory.

A memory full of Maria's disregard for carefully wrapped gifts as she was practically tearing the paper off them now, Kyle silently observed. She was really into opening presents, that one.

Maybe his future gifted girl would be really into it too. And that thought was just as good as Michael's birthday cake.

.-.-.-.

No gift was ever taken for granted.

And no gift was ever opened slowly.

It was like one of those constants in life: Death, taxes, and Maria's inability to hold her curiosity. Nothing was more infuriating than a wrapping that wouldn't tear, a tape that wouldn't come off or a box that would get stuck as she was trying to see the little treasure inside. Because treasures they were, no doubt about it.

She had left her entire life back in Roswell. All her precious little moments in time left behind without a second thought. She had chosen to come and see what life was like out there, and part of her knew she was going to miss things, but she had never expected to miss them _so_ much. Certainly not all of them, but now she wished she had carried one more picture of her mom and herself, or had worn that green beautiful sweater her grandma had given her the Christmas before last. Even that colorful, beautifully crafted, handmade napkin holder seemed invaluable now… Moments and gifts she was never going to see again.

So now it seemed like a monumental thing to gather things back. Little pieces of useless stuff, as Michael would call them, to remind her that she once had had a life, and that her past mattered. Little reminders that her friends cared about her and that they had taken the time to choose something for her.

Now, if only she could get to open that first little package…

"You're going to tear the present off at this rate…" Kyle jokingly said, though he might have had a point. Maria slowed down until a shiny white box met her anxious fingers, colorful wrapping paper pieces scattered on the floor. She was now opening Max and Isabel's gift.

Odd how she had expected to get a Max-Liz gift, and even a Kyle-Isabel gift, but had ended up receiving an Evans-sibling gift and a Liz-Kyle gift. Probably because they had been paired that way last time they had had a chance to stop to buy her something. God knew what a nightmare it had been to buy Christmas presents less than two months ago. A low budget and no privacy to buy alone and away her friends was a recipe for disaster when it came to keep it all under wraps.

"What is it-what is it?" she said in a little singsong voice, finally lifting the top of the box. More paper met her eyes, but a shiny little white thing came to her hand.

The Mac logo shined in the living room light, as Maria contemplated the first gift of the afternoon: An odd looking iPod.

"It's supposed to be a fourth generation model," Isabel said with a bright smile, as if anyone on that room could tell the difference from a third to a twentieth generation iPod model.

"The guys at engineering showed it to us on Wednesday," Max continued, smiling as well while Maria kept staring at the small rectangle device. iPods were expensive, and had been on the market for less than two years. _More than 1000 songs on your pocket_, the ads used to say, and she had to admit the little thing look cute too. "The model is not supposed to hit the market for another year."

_That's why it looks weird, then,_ Maria realized, wondering if industrial espionage was part of engineering's duties. Years later, she would always laugh when remembering she had gotten a classic iPod model when it had been anything but classic to her.

"We spent a little time filling it up for you," Isabel continued their shared explanation. "They have a very wide selection in those touch screens at the apartments."

"And," Max said as if he were giving one grand finale, "you can also store pictures in it."

Maria looked at the small thing in her hands. This was one little handy treasure, indeed.

"Who the hell would want to see pictures so small?" Michael said out of the blue, to which Maria automatically swatted him. Again. Gees, the guy did redefine the term _tactless_.

"Forget Michael's words, this is really great!" Maria said with a bright smile while Michael rubbed his arm. Besides, after such an _exquisite_ lunch, she was sure everyone would forgive Michael just about anything right now. Man, if only he had cooked like that while they had been on the run…

She swatted him again.

"What was that for?" he indignantly asked as Maria picked the next wrapped mystery, completely ignoring him. This one was from Liz.

The box was smaller than the first one, but not easier to unwrap. As Liz bit her lip in equal anticipation while Max put an arm around her, Maria finally let the colorful paper fall to the floor. Another white box met her eyes, but this one was the kind that promised jewelry inside.

And jewelry it concealed, indeed.

The silver locket shone intensely even with the pale winter light coming from the windows that overlooked to the frozen lake. It was shaped like three oak leaves falling together, all detailed with intricate veins and raindrops. It was hanging on a thin silver chain, and as Maria lifted it to see it closer, the leaves rotated so she got to read the inscription at the back: _Follow your heart._

Maria smiled at that. She had asked Liz a few times if Liz had had a flash of her future. Life on the road was uncertain enough, so why not have a little clue in advance? Were she and Spaceboy going to end up together? Settle down somewhere? Was she ever going to see her Mom again? Roswell? What kind of job was she going to do? Would she sing? Questions and more questions that had been equally met with Liz's insistence that she didn't know, or couldn't tell her.

_Follow your heart, Maria. Be what you want to be and do what you want to do. Don't feel tied up to some flash I had or become something you don't want to. It just wouldn't be fair after all we've been through._

Well, there was no need for more proof than her decision of following Guerin beside her to know she was –indeed- following her heart. Not in the sense that she had done it out of love exactly, but more out of wanting to find her place in life. She had done it out of free will, she guessed, and ultimately, her heart had lead her back to Michael.

"It's beautiful," she sincerely said as she stood to hug her best friend in the whole world.

"I hope you'll never take it off," Kyle said out of the blue, "or mine won't make much sense." Liz laughed at that, sending Maria's curiosity sky high.

"Yeah, it took us some time to decide, actually…" Liz said as both Kyle and her smiled in a conspiracy way.

Maria turned to look at the two presents still left on the center table: a small one like Liz's, and a big one that look suspiciously like a book. She picked the small one. More paper flied away as Liz sat down again net to Max and Isabel took the locket for inspection.

A few minutes later, Kyle's comment made sense, as his gift shone in the living room; twin oak leaves trios on a smaller scale being held in Maria's hand, which were the earrings that matched the locket.

"We all follow our hearts, you know," Kyle said with a smile, understanding flowing between them in a way that their hybrid friends wouldn't really comprehend.

"You guys…" Maria said as she hugged Kyle. "It must have cost you a fortune," she remarked, fighting tears.

Behind her, Michel nodded, not because he really knew how much the lock and the earrings had cost, but because he knew that Maria knew quality at first sight. And those pearls had been expensive two years ago… Isabel knew quality too.

"We managed," Liz said with a smile of her own, leaving Maria wondering how exactly Kyle and Liz had been able to purchase these babies under her nose.

"You're right, Kyle," Maria said as Isabel gave her the locket back. "I'm never going to take them off."

In the far off future, an older Maria, sitting in the middle of a Chinese plaza, was going to be playing with the locket and thinking about this day. She would take them off, but more likely than not, she would be wearing the silvery oak leaves as a token of true friendship from the closest humans to her.

The last present on the table now had all her attention, oak leaves shining from her ears and neck. Taking it, she felt a mixture of disappointment and curiosity. The gift wasn't from Michael, but from Jake. Silence descended in the room as everyone waited for her reaction, watching her standing still in the middle of the living room inspecting it.

"_Use it wisely_," she read out loud the card that was attached to it, written in the same neat handwriting that she had seen written on Dave's own birthday card. It was a heavy gift, wrapped in red paper with a mismatched blue ribbon awkwardly placed on a corner. She stared at it, not sure what to make out of Jake giving her a present. She hadn't even met the guy, for crying out loud. Besides, was it even proper? Even Dave had seemed to think not, since he hadn't even said _Happy birthday_ to her. But then again, what was she supposed to do? Not unwrap it? Trash it without a second glance?

She kept staring at it.

Chances were she was not going to like it. A book that big –and she was fairly sure by the feel that it was a book- was more likely than not going to be about a boring subject. No one could write a book that big and keep the reader interested for long. And what would be the correct way to address it once she did meet this Jake guy? _Thanks for the book! No, no, I haven't had time to read it…_? Seriously, why had Jake sent her a gift? It would only make things even more awkward than they already were…

"Aren't you going to open it?" Michael asked impatiently. Maria glared at him, not knowing Michael himself was getting nervous about the fact that she might not like his own present.

Shrugging a little and letting go a sigh of resignation, Maria tore the red paper effortlessly, just to find a red cover under it. White letters flashed through her yes as she went all the way around the wrapping so she could read the title on the cover, thinking that of course, it was a book, her detective skills as good as ever.

The blue ribbon fell to the floor as all eyes fixed on her and her latest gift. Except for Michael's question, all that could be heard was the paper being torn, until she finally managed to have the book straight so she could read its name.

And then she smiled.

A somewhat malicious smile that would invariably make Michael nervous.

In her hands laid the book that she would read for the upcoming months, and would reference to in the upcoming years: _Linda Goodman's Love Signs: A New Approach to the Human Heart_. The zodiac signs book was a guide that described every single zodiac pairing there was to be found. With more than 600 pages, the author went on and on telling anecdotes and curiosities about each personality and how they related to the world and their significant other.

One didn't grow up a DeLuca without knowing that there was at least something true about sun signs.

How had Jake known she would love it didn't bother her at that moment, as she started to go through the pages with one pairing in her mind: Man Sagittarius - Woman Aquarius. Or, in other words: Michael and herself.

"It's a zodiac signs book!" she proudly exclaimed as she happily sat back, as everyone's interest was perked. It didn't matter if her friends believed in this stuff or not, in Maria's experience everyone was always curious about what their sign would say about themselves.

Everyone but Michael.

For the next ten minutes a discussion ensued between the two of them while everyone watched the storm slowly calm down. Later, the details would be blurry, but Maria would be fairly sure that it had all started with Michael saying it was stupid, because if any of it were true, then Max, Isabel and himself would be all the same. "_We all hatched at the same time!_"

"_Could you quit saying 'hatch'? It gives me the creeps!" Maria would defensively argue. "Besides, that Jake guy is some big shot genius, right? If he says it's wise," Maria would reason as she picked up the card with "Use it wisely" written on it, "then it must mean something!"_

Somewhere in their argument she would say that if aliens were real, why not zodiac signs. Somewhere around that, Michael would say that sure, SETI existed, but there was no government or private agency researching for zodiac signs.

She would say that zodiac signs were as old as humanity, and as such, full of wisdom. And so on and so forth, until Michael was cornered by –as he would call them later- purely illogical statements that he just couldn't fight off, and opening and closing his mouth a couple of times, he just finally gave up.

The clock struck 3 o'clock somewhere in the hut, as Michael's words finally came out: "I've got you something."

Suddenly, the book wasn't all that interesting.

The thing about Michael's presents was that more often than not, he did have the heart in the right place, but not exactly the mind to go with it. She had learned with time that with her Spaceboy, it really was the thought that counted. But once in a while, like with the napkin holder, he would actually ace it.

And if for nothing else, it was always sweet to know the poor guy had been agonizing over it. It meant that Michael cared for her, because the only things that made Michael nervous were the things that he held the closest to his heart.

By then her new book had reached Kyle's hands, while Isabel had gone for a second serving of Michael's masterpiece a.k.a. her birthday cake, followed closely by Max and Liz, all four of them waiting for the blond couple to finish their argument. But they all stopped in the middle of what they were doing as Maria and Michael abruptly fell silent.

"It's not much, but…" Michael began, his hand reaching for his pocket. He had told her back outside Dave's office that he had gotten her a present, but once Jake's had been opened and no more presents were on sight, she had assumed the present was still waiting for her at her apartment.

But now here it was, in front of her, a small rectangular bundle wrapped in brown paper and nothing else. Not a birthday card or a mismatched ribbon to go with. No way to guess what it was, either, except that it was solid to the touch, almost like a… like a box.

"I've been trying to properly finish it, but…" Michael said rather shyly, a rare moment that Maria didn't spoil by tearing apart the brown paper, but instead opened it slowly. After all, there wasn't much paper to begin with.

It was a box, indeed. A wooden box shaped like a chest with a Japanese symbol on top –though Maria would have generically called it Chinese- that made absolutely no sense to her. The box was still rustic looking, feeling a little rough on her hand, and surprisingly heavier than she would've thought, fitting easily on the palm of her hand.

"It means 'trust'," Michael said, almost as if he were holding his breath.

"It's really nice," Maria said with a smile, wondering what exactly was the deeper meaning of the box, intuitively knowing there was one.

"You're supposed to open it," Michael said before she could move in for the hug, making her think the real present was inside.

And it was, just not in the way that she expected.

Music started to play as she slowly opened the box, revealing what the little chest really was: A musical box.

Soft came the first notes, her singer's mind imagining a music sheet where each note would find its place. She didn't recognized them, frowning, thinking hard why had Michael chosen that song.

Monk flashed through her mind's eyes. Michael's friends and she hadn't mixed much, to tell the truth, but the song had to do with something Monk had said while they both had been waiting for Michael at his apartment. By now the song resonated in her mind, though the first time she had heard it, it had been a faster paced version.

"_It's an anime song," Monk had said as he had been playing it on Michael's stereo, the lyrics coming out in Japanese. _

"_Aren't you a little old to be watching cartoons?" Maria had answered, looking for a Snapple in Michael's fridge. "What does it say, anyway?"_

"_It's called 'Promises are not needed'," Monk had said glaring at her for the too old comment. "You know, it's a love story. About how love is an incredible force…" Monk had trailed off as if he could actually understand what was being sung. "Basically, the theme tells you that, even if you can't promise you're going to be together tomorrow, you're thankful for sharing the smiles you can today."_

It was so fitting it hurt. It had hurt back then, and it hurt now too. She had never known Michael had listened to their conversation, or that he had known she had found that the song pretty much described their relationship. Just like Michael had said, one day he was going to leave but… _"There is one thing that I can promise you, and that is that I can give you now."_

She never told him that she really didn't need promises.

She just needed to swat him.

"What was _that_ for?!" Michael exclaimed in shock.

"You're not supposed to make me cry on my birthday," Maria said with misty eyes, the song finishing as she closed the box. "It's beautiful, Michael, it really is," Maria said as she hugged him, bewilderment written all over his face.

"So… you really… like it?"

She kissed him, a few lonely happy tears running down her cheeks.

"It's perfect. You're perfect." He kissed her back. "This whole thing was perfect," she added between butterfly kisses. "That cake… _that_ was perfect," she emphasized.

In fact, why hadn't Michael cooked like that for the past seven months?

She swatted him again. But this time, he was too happy to care why.

.-.-.-.

Author's Note: The music box theme, along with the lyrics to the extended version of the song "Yakusoku wa Iranai – Promises are not needed" (including a video of the original anime, The Vision of Escaflowne) can be found on my profile. No infringement is intended.

Linda Goodman's Love Signs is a real book. And one hell of a read :D And no infringement is intended either.


	40. David pt1

**XXXV  
_David_**

...****

"I keep trying to picture her," Dave said, crounching in front of the bike that he would give Sybelle for her birthday, "sitting here, driving at an ungodly speed…" he trailed off, narrowing his eyes as he so clearly pictured a road somewhere in the middle of Europe, "and not killing herself…" He shook his head in a vain attempt at trying to purge such an image from his very active imagination.

"If you're so worried about it, why are you giving her a bike to begin with?" Jake frowned, half a smile on his face. He was enjoying Dave's suffering over this entirely too much.

Dave sighed for what felt like a minute, slowly letting the air go.

"She's going to get one somehow, someday… soon… I better make sure that the piece of machinery on which her life depends is the best designed and assembled on the face of this planet." Dave stood up, his eyes going over the very smooth and very dynamic bike. It was designed to run, and he wondered for the hundredth time –_exactly_ the hundredth time- if he had made a mistake in making that a requirement: made to run.

But he knew Sybelle, and she wouldn't settle for anything but the fastest thing she could put her small hands on.

"You sound like her father," Jake said, stifling a laugh. Every year, for the past six, Sybelle's need for extreme sports had sent Dave's blood pressure through the roof. He shuddered at the thought of what would happen to him if he really had a daughter.

"Hardly," he grimly said, "A father would have locked her up when she turned thirteen…" he half murmured, his eyes searching for any flaw, any detail that might make the bike just a little less secure… Any excuse to not ship this baby to the old continent along with his belongings tomorrow afternoon.

"You gotta admit… she's really good at the extreme sports thing…" Jake reminded him, the one and only reason why Dave had agreed that a bike would be the best birthday present this time. He wasn't kidding himself, Sybelle had probably ridden her first bike when she had been 15, with that boyfriend that he'd better not even think about, and had done more adrenaline-inducing things in her short life than Dave and Jake put together, but it was one thing to intuit all this, and a whole other to know he was making it easier for her.

Then again, since the first time he had met Sybelle's distrustful eyes, he had known she was a fighter. He just hadn't known she was an adrenaline junkie as well.

"It has been a long day…" Dave said out of the blue. Between Maria, Susset, the hacker, the Network Keepers, Jake's recount of events with Max and Liz in his lab in the morning, not to mention Jake's need to know what Dave was planning –and God, did he hate half lying to Jake-, and now the bike, Dave had more than enough on his plate.

"It has," Jake agreed. "I'll keep an eye on Max," he added, both men concerned with that strange energy development. Dave would see Max in 15 hours, and he would make sure to notice every single movement his young guest would do. It also made him nervous that so many unknown variables were starting to come up. He hadn't counted on them.

No one had counted on them.

"Say 'hi' to Sybelle when you talk to her later, okay?" Jake said, as he was now taking one last look at the silvery, smooth surface of the bike. Jake and Sybelle had always kept an interesting relationship: Not cold, but more like a polite one. It wasn't Jake's fault, of course, who could ever blame Jake for not trying? No, it was a "Sybelle thing". Dave suspected she was a bit jealous that Jake got to spend a lot time with him, which she couldn't; but then again, Sybelle was also the protective kind. Maybe she thought Jake was not good enough for him.

Dave and Sybelle's relationship was more like an easy friendship. He didn't get to see her much, partly because of his schedule, and partly because it wouldn't be a good thing if anyone ever found out she was connected to him. But, on the rare occasions they did spend time together, they joked around, and she would tell him all about the new sport she had discovered, and maybe the new boyfriend that went along with it. She was so full of life. He had taken care of her since she had been six years old, looking for a nice family for her, nice boarding schools later, university now, and pretty much indulging her in some very questionable gifts from time to time. Like the bike.

He already hated himself.

"Will do," he answered Jake. His friend had said earlier he still had data to analyze from the morning's events, and since it was Dave's sleep time, Jake would take advantage of that so he could have a clearer picture of what had been going on by the time Dave awakened around 8:00 p.m.

He hated jetlag… Dave should be sleeping at the same hours as everyone else in here, but since he was going back to Berlin in 24 hours, what was the point? At least he wouldn't have to deal with jetlag and unsynchronized schedules there.

"Oh, Dave," Jake said before leaving engineering for good, "Happy early birthday!"

"You've been saying that too cheerfully for the past week…" Dave darkly said, remembering the birthday card with "_getting closer to the 40's?_" written on it. Jake just loved to remind him that time was flying by, especially when this time of the year was coming. Dave did love his birthday, he just didn't like seeing the numbers changing with each passing year. Besides, 38 was such a boring number…

Jake chuckled while he left the room, knowing full well what Dave was referring to. Yet the fact remained that tomorrow, February 8th 2003, would be his birthday. He had always done interesting things on his birthday, right from the beginning, he guessed. All the way from the day he was actually born, back in 1965.

He had done the research, of course. He had hunted down the newspapers and anything he could find related to February 8th, 1965, to the turbulent city of Algiers. They had won their independence barely three years before from the French, but everything was still unsettled, factions from both sides fully armed. To the eyes of the world, Algeria was already an independent country, but for those who lived there, peace was a term loosely used. No wonder his father had been attracted like a moth to the flame.

Dave wished he could remember more from his parents. More about what they thought and how they chose their battles. Why had they decided to go to Algiers, of all places?

He remembered playing with his dad's camera. So heavy, so complex, so shiny… so _interesting_. Had Dave been asked what he wanted to be when he grew up, he would have said a photographer, just like his dad. It all had seemed so exciting at the time. He had been just a kid, not even five, but already he was used to moving from here and there, unaware of the danger. Unaware of the pictures his father's lens was capturing.

Dave's life was already submerged in numbers and puzzles. Very little of the outside world would capture his mind. So what if they were moving? What if his father was catching suspicious looks for being an English man on Islamic lands? Why should it matter that her mother could very well be stoned to death for thinking about women's rights in a world where women could be bought and sold?

Of the few things Dave did remember, one was of how much his mother hated to wear those robes.

"_It's not that they aren't pretty, Sweetheart," she had told him when he had asked, "it's that I should be able to decide if I want to wear them or not. Everyone should have the right to decide."_

It hadn't made much sense then. All he had known was that having choices was good. He wouldn't understand the meaning that _being able to choose_ was better until he was seven.

He hadn't understood half of the time that he was in the middle of some protest or strike; or that hardly any children were brought to this kind of thing. By the time he was three he thought that being an activist was just another job, like being a photographer.

Human rights activist, as a job, seemed like a fun thing to be.

It hadn't made much sense until he was older –much older- that it was probably his dad's job which had kept them both him and his mother free from many jail cells. After all, being a freelance photographer for National Geographic had to count for something.

Dave had every single photograph by his father that had ever been published. Sometimes, he remembered the places, though he had been unaware of what his dad was photographing. He wished he could have something from his mother, but he had never really been able to go deeper into his mother's past. He didn't even know how his parents had met, just that both had been lone wanderers, who had cut their family relationships for things they truly believed in.

Passionate souls, Jake had once called them. The type of people who would chain themselves to trees and paint their faces and go to the freezing waters of the ocean to stop whale hunting.

So, with so many conflicts in the world, with so many places where his parents could have been radical human rights activists, why had they chosen Algiers? The place was pretty much a war zone. The French were bitter they had lost, the Algiers were bitter that independence wasn't exactly what they had thought once the military had taken over. Nobody knew what was going on, or when things were going to change for the worse.

Dave had the photographs from that day. They were never published, for which he was sorry, because at least then he would have had a caption, a story to go with them. An idea of why their parents had been shouting at a protest against the US Embassy one cloudy day in February.

It wasn't even recorded in the newspapers. It was as if it had never happened. No mention of the US Embassy, or of the pregnant woman who had been shouting right outside their gates. In the pictures Dave had, he could see another side of his mom, one of wild anger and passion, full of conviction for what she believed in. His father had captured her in four photographs, and then… then there was nothing else from that day.

Dave guessed she had gone into labor right there and then, and somehow, his mom had ended up inside the Embassy itself. Maybe it had had something to do with his father being a British citizen. Or maybe his photographer credentials had played a part. He had no idea. By the time he had tracked down all this information, hardly anything from that particular day still stood. Maybe it had all been buried so he couldn't find a better link to his past.

Oddly enough, not knowing more about it didn't obsess him, but he wasn't sure why. Maybe because his parents themselves didn't seem to bother with the past. They were who they were and they believed what they believed, and that was all that mattered, a view that he wholeheartedly embraced. There was no different life than the one he had, and no point in regretting past mistakes.

They had named him _David_, or rather, _Da_-_veed_, which was his Mom's pronunciation of his name. His dad, of course, had fallen into the habit of calling him David in the English style, but by the time he was four, little David understood perfect English and perfect Arabic to be comfortable enough with whichever parent was talking to him. His name meant "beloved", and for someone who had grown up between bullets, shouts, political conflicts and violent towns, Dave would never say his parents weren't anything if not loving parents. A bit radical, sure, but they believed that Dave had a right to know what the world was like, and that he could have a voice to change it all.

They were planting seeds.

If only they could see the forest he had grown.

He wasn't sure if his parents would approve of his methods, though. He wasn't shouting on the streets, or chaining himself. He wasn't on the news clamoring for the rights of human lives. He didn't do fundraisings to benefit this or that organization. Dave didn't think that, even if he had grown up with his parents, he would have done that either. Changes took place in more subtle locations. In elegant restaurants. At Opera interludes. Inside expensive suits. And hardly ever wearing anything that had cost less than 5000.00.

The one thing he was sure of was that, had he grown up with his parents, he wouldn't be branching his resources into so many things. He would have probably focused all his efforts into fulfilling his parents' vision, not because he _had_ to, but because he believed they were after the _right_ things. And as he had once told Jake, he would do anything for the right reasons.

But, he hadn't grown up with his parents, had he? No, by age six, Dave had been introduced to a world far more complicated than organizing protests, and far more dangerous than stopping whale hunting. He hadn't known much what was happening then, and probably wouldn't have been aware of it all until he had been older if it hadn't been for Jake.

Twelve year old Jake who became his best friend in the space of a week, a friendship that had lasted a lifetime. A friendship Dave was very reluctant to compromise, but he had seen no other way of achieving his long term plans otherwise. Jake would understand, Dave told himself, he would understand in the long run. Because at some point, he was bound to tell Jake, and Max, and all of them what he was truly doing. He wondered if it would happen on one of his birthdays.

So many things had happened on his birthdays.

When he had turned 25, he had decided it was time to revisit his past, just one last glance to the place where he had almost died. How ironic it had also been in the same country that had seen him born. Not the same city, though. Quargla, Algeria was a very different place than Algiers, the capital. _Dusty_, he remembered thinking. Dust he couldn't count. It had to be measured, and that bothered him. By the age of six, little David had traveled _a lot_, but was hardly conflicted with the life of the nomad, always asking about this new thing, or that cultural difference. They lived for the most part like westerners, but in an Islamic world, now and then they just had to blend in. Sometimes, he had wished he could wear the burka his mother so desperately didn't want. He liked the mystery of it.

He remembered the car. A land rover that made a terrible noise every time his dad shifted gears. The wheel was so big, the radius so large, Dave could actually remember his dad having a hard time turning it. It must have taken a lot of muscle, he now thought, slightly smiling at the idea that it would explain why his mom would seldom drive it. He bet his father would have cursed a lot under his breath on those roads.

Compared to the Jeep he had arrived in on his 25th birthday, he wondered how on Earth he had been able to keep doing math in his head with such thrashing and bumping around. He guessed Jake was right, he _did_ have an uncanny talent to get inside his head and not get out.

Things had changed, and most of it was because he didn't have the same perception he had had being a six year old kid as he did as a twenty-five year old man. Things didn't look so big, for one, and he was more aware of the danger around him. He was barely beginning the foundations of his underground empire by that time, and possibilities were still stretching as far as the horizon.

It had happened at sunset. That was the last thing he remembered having looked upon, the red sun setting behind the mountains, tainting everything red. He probably had heard the noise, the loud explosion the land mine must had made when the car went over it, ending his parent's lives and changing his in a second. He should remember it, but he didn't.

Sitting on his Jeep's bonnet, remembering the way his father used the British term for the Jeep's hood, 25 year old Dave watched the spot where he knew it must have happened. He was glad he didn't remember the explosion. He was thankful that most of the scars left on his body were on his back, so he hardly ever thought of them. And he was relieved that the last images of his parents he had were of people full of life and passion.

His mom liked to smile a lot, he remembered, and so he did his best to smile as she did. Even if it meant to smile in front of the place where he could almost tangibly see where his intended life had ended, and where his "new" life had begun.

It wasn't until he turned around to enter his car that he noticed the most curious thing. And so it was, that on his 25th birthday, Dave had met Sybelle. He wasn't David anymore by that point, and he hadn't seen Jake for over a year either, not while he was still planning and taking directions he wasn't sure were good for his friend.

Sybelle had been six –or so she had later said- and hiding in his Jeep. She was a pretty and skillful thief, stealing whatever she could to eat, and the wild fear in her eyes told Dave she had probably stolen one too many pieces of bread. Wild, yes, but also defiant. It was almost as if she were daring him to shout for the people who were searching for her. _Here she is! Come cut off her hands!_

Even if that hadn't happened, Sybelle's future was a very dark one. He knew enough about small towns in the desert. He knew enough by looking at Sybelle that he had her future in his hands. He also knew he had no idea of how to take care of her.

And staring at the bike in front of him, 37 year-old Dave knew he _still_ had no idea of how to take care of her. He had taken her into his world, the western world to which he half belonged, always wondering if she would miss her Islamic roots, the other half his blood had come from.

The world was so divided it was painful. It was one of his father's sayings. One of the few things he had truly held on to, along with the fact that they were citizens of the world, not just of one country. That idea had made all the difference in his life, and he had tried his best for Sybelle to have a good life as well. If not for anything else, at least he had given her the ability to choose from all the possibilities the world had for her.

Thirteen years had come and gone since he had become responsible for another human life, and some things had certainly changed. He was getting closer to the 40's, indeed, and the sudden weight of his life made him sigh. He still had so much to do. He still had a world to shape.

Yawning, he let those thirteen years roll by without much thought. Of all the things he had done, he was sure that his parents wouldn't look kindly on the fact that, for him, shaping the world was a very lucrative game. He would agree, though he couldn't do a thing about it. Without money, he would hardly be able to do anything his way. He had once smiled at a t-shirt legend he had read, "There's a better world out there, but it's more expensive". It was painfully true. Changing the world required a lot of currency, and at making money he certainly excelled.

He excelled at so many things it wasn't even funny, he darkly thought. It was rare that he would let his thoughts go down a path of what if's, like Jake loved to do, and rather than question who would he be if he had been average -he didn't like the term "normal"- he wondered what other paths he could have chosen. Who would he have worked for? Who would have taken advantage of his talents before he had realized he could do pretty well by himself?

Knowing it was pointless, he gave the bike one last glance. Thinking how his life could be different was as useless as staring at the bike debating the sanity of his judgment over giving it to his sort of goddaughter. He was tired, and the way his thoughts were rambling was proof enough of that. This day had just been too long, though he had to admit, for being his last day as a 37 year-old guy it had been pretty interesting.

As he finally turned to leave, he guessed there were no more surprises for the day. Still lost in thought about his past decisions and his future moves, Dave was already longing for his bed, without the slightest clue that this time, he wouldn't be alone in his dreams.


	41. David pt2

**XXXV**

_**David**_

_Cont._

…

It was the weirdest dream she had ever walked into.

When Isabel had decided to take a nap at 4 o'clock, it had come as a last minute thought that maybe, just _maybe_, now she could get into Dave's dreams. After an entire week of attempting it and failing, she wasn't really trying that hard, but surprisingly, Dave was actually easy to dreamwalk. It was almost as if he was broadcasting his dreams, just for her to step in and have a look. They were just as vivid and detailed as Max's, except that Dave's were… _crowded_.

Though these thoughts came later. At first, she hadn't even realized that she had managed the trick. There was a certain feeling, a certain quality to reality that would always inform her that she had entered someone's dream, but this change was very subtle in Dave's mind. It was as if dream and reality didn't hold too much difference for him.

In truth, she hadn't dreamwalked all that much to begin with. She had rarely done so during her teenage years, and even after saving Laurie she hadn't been too active of a dreamwalker. Sometimes she got to see really messed up stuff, and she had decided that it wasn't worth scarring her own subconscious for life just to get a little thrill and some practice.

So when she entered Dave's dream, it really felt like the weirdest dream ever, if only for lack of comparison.

Her mind tried really hard to make sense of what she was seeing and hearing. It felt like she was in the middle of some bare, wide room. Everything looked somehow distorted, and too far away. It was also kind of blurry if she tried to look up, not to mention that sounds seemed deeper and sort of echo-ish. And everything was sort of bluish too. She realized then that it all looked watery, and that's when it hit her: Dave's dream was underwater.

He was dreaming he was swimming. At the exact moment Isabel had entered his dream, Dave was dreaming he was diving into a very deep pool, sounds of something metallic being hit, and people shouting something up above, filling his dream. As Isabel finally found him, she realized that Dave wasn't a man right now, but a kid. Maybe a 7 or 8 year old kid, and he was swimming with such delight even Isabel had to smile.

Emotions could be contagious when she dreamwalked. And sometimes she got some information about what the dreamer was thinking. With Dave, it was as if he was spelling it out to her. He was swimming because he was asthmatic, and this particular exercise was good for his condition.

He hated being asthmatic.

Nothing new about that, but it was such an intense feeling she couldn't just ignore it. So he was happy for being able to swim, but miserable for the reason behind it. He was also scared of going up to take air, though this she couldn't understand. As open as he had been a second before, his fear was just shutting down any information she could take out of thin air. He preferred to stay down here, where things looked weird and sounded weirder, trying not to think what was above.

Because whatever was above, it would cause him to have an asthma attack. He just knew it, and so, she just knew it too.

Instead, Dave was looking to the swimming pool's floor. It had a strange pattern to it, and he was making a complicated formula that would resolve what the pattern was. Along with the formula, his mind was also going through numbers and numbers doing God knew what with them. Something to do with Jake, or something Jake wanted him to do.

That was when she had thought Dave's mind was _crowded_. Other formulas started claiming his attention, and he didn't even flinch, taking it all in a smooth, organized way. Yet as his thoughts started accelerating, the numbers not adding up in Dave's kid version mind, he started to feel frustrated. At some point, he realized he was still underwater, and in the logic of dreams, he thought that maybe he should go up for air, because the puzzle of the pool patterns was turning out to be boring.

He looked up and Isabel looked up, and dread filled the dream. He truly, really, didn't want to go up and take air, which was exactly the opposite of what Isabel wanted. She definitely wanted him to go up so she could see what was scaring Dave so much. If she tried by herself, she would just end up losing the dream altogether, and it had taken her way too long to get into this man's head to risk that. She would just have to wait and see where the dream would take her.

She watched Dave intently, and as he closed his eyes shut tight, she realized that Dave was thinking he was running out of air. This could turn out to be a good thing if he decided to go up, but a bad thing if it would end up waking Dave to the real world.

Maybe she could direct him up.

The dream changed. The swimming pool became a river, and she was pulled away in the current as Dave stubbornly remained in the same place. With a clarity that she had never encountered before, she heard Dave's thoughts as if they were her own. He had to hold on until Jake would come.

She tried to hold on to something, thinking it strange that she had to abide by the laws of physics in a dream, but it was hard not to fight the current when it felt so real. Dave's next thought puzzled her, as she heard him think _I have to grow up._

It wasn't that he wanted to be stronger, or taller, or bigger. It was that he wanted to be _older_. And he was wishing that with so much passion that the dream changed yet again, though they were still underwater. It was a lake now, with fish and algae under her feet. She was also holding her breath, and was slowly starting to take air. The water wasn't real, she scolded herself, but someone had yet to tell that to a slightly older Dave. He was probably around 13, and he was still shutting his eyes tight.

Just as if he had willed it, Jake entered the lake with a very stylish dive. He was no older than the young Jake version Isabel had seen in the doctor's dream three days before, probably around 18.

And he also looked _awesome!_

And he knew everything there was to know in the world, and he could do _everything _and _anything_ and no one on the entire planet could ever say different.

The rush of thoughts kept inundating Isabel's mind, almost threatening to drown her in the way the dream water couldn't. Everything in the dream vibrated with these thoughts, it was just impossible to escape them. Dave _admired_ Jake so much there was nothing he wouldn't do for his friend. As Jake pulled him out of the water, all these feelings followed Dave's mind. It was Jake who had known why roses were called roses, and why fractals were fun, and why grownups were confusing.

It was Jake who had needed him to be older.

"_Wa'i,"_ Dave's mind whispered with a child's voice, and though Isabel had never heard that word before, she automatically knew it was Arabic for _he knows._ It was as if for one moment Dave's mind had been simultaneously thinking in both languages. _He knows everything_, Dave thought as he reached the surface.

Air rushed into Isabel's lungs as there was no longer water around her, and Dave himself took in a deep breath. Sunlight streamed down to meet him, and he stood perfectly still under it, only desert and sky around them, Jake having vanished from the dream. Dave was no longer a kid but 20, maybe 25, and his thoughts changed from childish admiration to that of honest gratitude. He was free, and it was all thanks to Jake's plan.

After all the anxiousness of being underwater, of thinking he was going to drown, relief settled down in Dave's dream. He was calm, and he was in control. And he was thinking Jake needed to be protected.

One second that was all that mattered, and the next a hundred thousand ideas started swirling around Dave, like a twister made of thoughts, surrounding them both. She was right there in the middle, behind Dave as he struggled with his own feelings. So many people needed to be protected.

He needed to protect Sybelle. What would a fragile child do in this world? A little thief today, a prostitute tomorrow? Would she even make it to 15? For a second, the twister's inside wall took the same form of the desert beyond it, and then kept changing, the colorless ideas moving and shifting into golds and yellows and browns so Isabel was staring at some place with sand and sun and violence. It shifted to the puzzle Dave had been putting together the entire week, and she knew it reminded him of home. His home. Sybelle's home.

No, the world was his home.

That's what his parents had said, that's what Jake had insisted on, and that was the idea he had clung to through all his childhood years. Now that he was free, the world was his to protect.

The twister of ideas stopped, and the air was clear again. There was only the sound of gentle wind, and though the sun was high in the sky, it wasn't hot. It was just warm, nice and soothing. Unfortunately, all this clear space left Isabel completely unprotected, with no place to hide. Just as she thought this, Dave turned and looked at her, a little surprised. Then he frowned.

"You're not that easy to protect either," he said out loud, thinking how hard it was to protect the world. _But protect it from what?_ Isabel fleetingly thought as his hazel eyes pierced hers.

The desert disappeared as he stared at her, their location changing to one of an airport. Hangars. Biplanes. The sound of airplanes taking off and landing became the predominant noise, along with the smell of oil, and gasoline, and metal. They were still standing facing each other, half inside a hangar, half outside looking at the runaway.

"It's always tricky when it comes to you," Dave said, and this time it was his usual self, all 30 something years on him. He shifted his eyes to somewhere behind her, and Isabel couldn't help but turn and follow his stare. A fancy, semi-private jet was being boarded about 300 feet from them, an Asian stewardess smiling as a couple of people went inside.

"_Always_," Dave remarked as he went past her to board the jet himself. And just as she had known all Dave's previous thoughts, she now knew that whoever had boarded that plane just now had something to do with them, and that Dave was both anxious and relieved about this meeting. He had to be cautious, because this person was someone who made him uneasy. Someone who wasn't under his control.

Someone who also had to do with protecting them.

She turned to follow him, her heart slamming at her ribs at the possibility there were more people involved in their lives than just the ones they were aware of, when the dream just vanished.

Wherever he was, Dave had just awakened, leaving her behind with a thousand swirling questions in her mind.

-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-

Maria's giggles were infectious, Max had to admit, as he couldn't stop a smile escaping his lips. They were now the two sole habitants of the living room, the fire in the chimney making this a very cozy place. Wrappings were around, a half eaten piece of cake in front of her. She was sitting on the couch, legs beneath her, trying to stifle yet another laugh.

"This is the best book _ever_," she said out loud to no one in particular, making Max smile again. Jake's book about zodiac signs had definitely been a hit with the blonde girl, and though Max himself knew Michael was right about this being illogical, he was intrigued all the same.

Now she was happily reading "Man Sagittarius – Woman Aquarius", and was having one hell of a time, claiming the book described Michael –and her- to the last personal detail. Max was sitting besides her, trying to see if his best friend was really somewhere between those lines.

Behind them, Kyle, Liz and Michael were playing pool as if the world depended on it.

It was one of those weird facts that Max had always known at the back of his mind –that Michael and Liz were both good pool players- but there had never been a pool table to play on for his wife and best friend to learn the other played. Still, with all the presents open, all the cake eaten, and the lonely pool table at their backs, one thing had led to the other.

Get Kyle into the mix, and the game had escalated from a friendly show off to a full blown war.

Isabel had excused herself to one of the rooms, since she was really tired. Liz had shot Max a questioning look that had said loud and clear, s_houldn't you be doing the same? _He had smiled at her concern, and had shook his head no. He wasn't tired at all. He should be, he knew, because he had barely slept… what? Fifteen, twenty minutes? But now he felt well and alert, if maybe a little sparkly. So instead he had started to watch the game, which had gotten boring really fast.

He wouldn't have minded watching Liz play any given day, but all three of them would take an absurdly long time to plan their shots that soon Maria's laugh had lured him away from the battle field. Maria had slightly shifted her posture to let him read as she was reading too, not bothering to ask him what he was doing there or why.

"_Hey Girlfriend, you don't get depressed about Liz, I won't get depressed about Michael and all your alien crap, deal?"_ Maria had said once on that long summer from hell, placing a Cherry Coke in front of him. That was how Maria was, the kind of friend who knew when to whack him, and when to give him comfort food. It had lasted for about two seconds, after which he had asked if she had heard about Liz and she had said Michael was an idiot and that he wasn't returning her calls.

He unconsciously placed his right hand over his left hand, needing to feel the reassurance of his wedding band. He absently smiled at the happy nudge he got from Liz as she was winning the game. By his side, Maria reached for the half piece of cake in front of her.

Behind him, he heard Kyle warning Michael that he had sworn he wouldn't use his powers. Maria smiled at that as she rolled her eyes, placing the cake back on the table.

"_You know, you and I wouldn't even last three days," _Maria had stated one warm night around the middle of that summer. She had wanted to talk to him so he would please, please, _please, _explain to her what the hell was wrong with Michael. As they had been stargazing over the jeep, she had said that out of the blue. He could see why: He was too passive and she was too speedy. The combination sort of worked with their respective best friends: she with Liz and him with Michael… but not for them, at least not as a couple. A second later, she had said as an afterthought: _"Michael and Liz wouldn't even last three hours…"_ Max had laughed out loud for the first time in two months, Maria following him with a giggling fit. No, logical Liz with impulsive Michael…

"You never told Spaceboy Liz is a pool shark, did you?" Maria quietly asked him, effectively bringing him to the present.

"It's sort of one of those things that never come up in a conversation…" Max explained as he rubbed his right earlobe and slightly smiled. She smiled as well, and then returned to her book. As she did so, she shifted her legs to settle in a more comfortable way, and then abruptly stopped.

"Ouch, ouch, ouch…" she said as she carefully moved her right leg from beneath her and sort of stood with one knee on the couch, and one foot on the floor. "God, I forgot! I took this from Dave's office," she said as she took something out of her right pocket. "I thought maybe one of you guys could get a flash or something out of it."

In her hand was a plain black pencil. By the size of it, it had probably been used a lot. Its sharp point had jabbed Maria's leg, making it impossible to ignore any longer.

Behind them, the pool game stopped. No more _clock- clock_ sound as the balls collided against each other. Max didn't even think about it. He reached for the pencil debating if he should go to wake up Isabel or wait a little longer, and was about to ask Michael's opinion when he took it from Maria's hand.

And then everything changed.

_Everything._

He was no longer in the hut with Maria standing beside him, and Michael, Kyle and Liz looking expectantly at him. There were no happy birthday decorations or half eaten cake. It wasn't even winter.

It wasn't even the United States.

Later, he wouldn't be able to recall how exactly he knew all these details, just that he had known. He was in a room with both Jake and Ray, somewhere in a very high apartment building. The floor was polished wood, the living room had very big and expensive-looking black couches. It was night, so the city outside was made of a million dots of light. He was only a ghost in this flash, but he still felt awkward and out of place, having to gain his bearings as if he had just teleported to this place and time. In a sense, he had.

"When you have to give a gift to someone who can have anything, you have to be creative," Jake was telling Ray, as he was unwrapping a set of a dozen black pencils, all looking alike. All looking like the one Max had in his hand. Jake took one and placed it aside, and then started to re-wrap the remaining eleven.

"That's part of 'creative'?" Ray asked, his eyes following Jake's moves.

"He doesn't like the number 12," Jake explained as if it was the most obvious thing in the world.

"I take it eleven is a safe one then?" Ray said, arching his eyebrows.

"All prime numbers are safe ones..." Jake absently replied, and then added as an afterthought, "Thirty-five is not a prime number... he's not going to like this birthday... Last one he got was thirty-one, and now he has to wait till thirty-seven for another prime—"

Without a warning, not even a sound, the flash changed as Jake stopped touching the pencil. Max was in another room, in another time, in another city. It was Dave who sat writing with the black pencil, the study where he was spotless and impersonal. _Cold_. That was the word Dave had used when he had talked to Jake a few minutes ago. The place was emotionally cold, but it would have to do for this trip. And it was quiet, so it was good for making notes for his upcoming meeting.

He was writing in Arabic, Max noticed as he moved through the flash to stand by Dave. It was so weird to see someone writing in the opposite direction. Susset would call any minute now with the week's update about the projects she supervised. By his side, Dave eyed the folder he had received earlier in the day. He made a point of knowing all things unusual noted by his research companies, and this certainly qualified as such. A strange high-energy microwave signal, the second one they had tracked that year. _Aliens_. Of all the things he had thought he would or could discover in his lifetime, this wasn't on that list. Who was talking to them? And more importantly, what was being said?

The phone rang, and Dave let go of the pencil. The room shifted, making Max dizzy for a second. He focused again on Dave, this time sitting in a leather seat of a private jet. The black pencil was in his hand, of course, and he was drawing circles around something on a piece of paper.

_Roswell, New Mexico._

One of the divisions at his genetics companies had been anonymously hired to research a dress with a bullet hole. It had taken some time –and some money- but he had found out that the dress was from Roswell, New Mexico. _Aliens again,_ Dave thought as he looked out of the window. It wasn't that he believed there were aliens involved in the dress research, but the town in the middle of the desert certainly reminded him of the microwave signal. Nothing else had been found since the signal had been tracked a month before, and frankly, Dave didn't think he would get to see it again.

He frowned. Maybe Jake would be interested in this bullet-hole mystery. Dave had read the file because something unusual had been found, but biology was not his strongest subject. He had way more interest in interstellar travelling and communication than some weird genes.

"A drink?" the stewardess asked him, coming from behind. Max looked at her, almost afraid that she was going to look at him, but just as he did so, Dave set the pencil aside to receive his Coke.

This time, Max was almost prepared for the shift. He still felt as if someone had spun him around way too fast, but he was eager to know more. To Max's surprise, it was a woman who was holding the pencil this time. It was Paris, and it was Christmas, he could tell by the decorations. The very spacious apartment was very well organized and clean. Folded over a coffee table lie the wrapping of gifts that were already set in their rightful places. The woman in front of him was around her 30's, with dark, red hair in a ponytail, a slim figure and very big, very green eyes. She was wearing sport clothes, and she had been interrupted in the middle of her routine. She was now on the phone, taking notes with the black pencil.

"—Got it. Phoenix, Arizona," she said, writing it now in neat, small handwriting. "You know Dave, it might just be a scam from the media or the hospital… Christmas is a great time to pull stuff like this…" she said in a practical tone as she continued making notations. _Call Ian to see about the records. _She was already planning how to get the security tapes that Dave had just requested. Ian would be delighted. A job for Dave meant really good money, and the guy needed it. She kept listening to whatever Dave was saying, and she added, _list of everyone involved. _

"It might take a few weeks to analyze the videos, though… Assuming there's something to analyze…" she said, trying to think who was the closest photo analyst to Arizona. She wrote down two names, glancing at her laptop at the other side of the living room.

She abruptly stopped at something Dave had said, and then looked down at her hand and the black pencil. "Oh, yes, you left it here. I'm actually writing with it." She smiled shaking her head. She was sure that she would have to send the pencil via DHL if it weren't for the fact that she would meet with Dave in two days. The guy did love his pencils, it would seem. He had so many quirks, and Jake was no better.

She threw the pencil to the couch in favor of her computer, and everything disappeared into darkness.

For one second, Max felt as if he had been left in limbo, with no way out. He started to worry, the darkness feeling too oppressive, when he saw a lamp being turned on in front of him. The flash had changed into a bedroom, more windows showing he was at an apartment in a city, lights bright in the dark sky. Night again… late at night.

Dave was the one turning the light on, the pencil already in his hand as he also fetched a notebook he kept by his bed. God, he hated jetlag. He couldn't sleep, he couldn't concentrate; he felt half-sick, half-exhausted because he wasn't able to properly sleep or eat and, frankly, he generally felt like crap. So he turned to his beloved numbers, and started writing some new security codes, then changed to some obscure math problem, then changed again to the security codes, then again to something he was researching, all in the space of twelve seconds. Anything to get his mind in order and restore his internal clock. He went from one problem to the other, his hand too slow to the speed of his mind, ideas forming and then collapsing as others claimed his attention.

Max's mind went blank. Trying to follow the sense of Dave's chaotic mind was useless. He could barely understand the concepts behind Dave's numbers, let alone analyze them at the speed they were coming and disappearing. He was losing the flash but he willed himself to remain there, something he had never done. It was one thing to concentrate enough to get a flash, and another entirely to cling to the one he already had.

He thought for a second someone was calling his name.

A phone rang, and for one instant Dave's numbers turned to the mathematical formula of the sound, drawing Max's mind out of his own thoughts and into Dave's. The only reason Dave had learned to play the piano was because of the mathematical nature of music. He still felt disoriented in this nine hour jetlag, but the reason behind the call intrigued him. So few people had this number, it had to be important.

He checked the ID and then frowned. A Messenger.

"What've you got?" Dave answered a second later, the pencil now motionless in his left hand. Messengers only called in emergencies, and he had very few projects now where any information could be considered an emergency.

"You've got the main leads of the Phoenix videotape by now?" the voice anxiously asked. Messengers were distrustful types by nature, but they all sounded anxious when they were talking to him. He absently made a question mark in the notebook, wondering why it was always like that.

"Yes, two days ago," Dave said, his eyes flashing to a manila folder out of reach on a shelf by the wall. Max followed Dave's gaze to it, knowing that if he could open it, he would find a picture of Michael and himself walking down the hall at the Phoenix hospital. Now that Dave's mind was going at normal speed, Max could pick these things up. Before leaving his last location, Dave had shared this information with Ray. By this time, Ray was probably setting up camp in Roswell.

"I think there's another lead…" the Messenger said, lowering his voice, "a dangerous one."

A _dangerous lead_ meant one that had the resources to follow the trail back to Dave. All Messengers considered this an emergency situation that had to be reported and needed Dave's awareness and approval. Though discovery was always a possibility in their line of work, rarely what they knew alone was enough to jeopardize Dave's business. But now he was dealing with aliens, wasn't he? He had to be better prepared to deal with these situations and the people that came with them.

"Explain," Dave said as he got up from the bed, leaving the notebook aside, and a second later, the pencil as well.

The brightness of the place that took shape instead of the shadowy bedroom made Max automatically squint. It was outdoors, a country club maybe, though this Max deduced because Dave's thoughts were anywhere but in the place he was at. The pencil in his hand drummed anxiously away as Dave waited for someone to pick up the phone.

Jake.

The pencil stilled in his hand as his friend finally answered. They hadn't seen each other for a few months, not since Jake's birthday. He wished he was calling for something else, anything else… Instead, this call felt somehow like a setup. He was setting Jake up for something Dave himself wasn't so sure about. _But who else can I ask?_ Dave thought as they exchanged greetings. _This is too important for anyone else to handle. And he's the only one I can trust to continue if I can't._

"You know, I have the perfect project for you," Dave cut to the chase, his calm voice belying the uncertainty he felt. This was the point of no return. Even if Jake said no, he had already at least tried to set him up.

Max couldn't hear what Jake was answering, but he could feel what Dave felt. Jake was joking on the other side, and Dave wished he wouldn't. Not now, not when he was telling him half truths and steering him where he wanted.

"Maybe both," Dave answered to some unheard question, and for the briefest of moments he thought that maybe Jake would know better how to handle the situation. Jake was older than him, and had wonderful people skills. Maybe Jake had what was needed to change things.

"What if I tell you that—" Dave started, his mind following his train of thought. _That things aren't what they look like, and I have stumbled onto something bigger than anything else on this planet?_

There was a menace, a dark fear inside Dave's mind that clouded and wiped this thought as it was barely forming. No, he couldn't risk Jake any more than he was already. In time, hopefully, Jake would know. "—that camera you've been working on on weekends has a lot of potential with this project?" he finished his question.

He was baiting Jake and his friend rose to the occasion. It both pleased him and saddened him. If Jake had said no, what would he do? Did he even have a choice of _not_ convincing his friend?

"No," Dave laughed, fully into the charade, "I was thinking more along the lines the Russians did when they first developed it."

The special lens, Max knew. They were talking about the camera in Jake's lab that took those weird images of Max, Michael and Isabel's energy. The one that showed them in bright blues and light-blues. The one that could have picked up something from Liz right this morning.

_Max…_ he heard Liz's whisper coming from somewhere he couldn't quite pin down, but he didn't let himself get distracted. Why was Dave afraid of bringing in Jake?

"Well, I am now," Dave continued in his one sided conversation. "Would you be interested in working with…" he trailed off, searching for the right words… Searching for a way out of this, and not dragging Jake into this abyss. "How do you say it? 'Gifted' kids?"

He placed the pencil in front of him, but didn't let it go. How ironic, it was one of Jake's presents from two years ago. So many things had changed since then. _No,_ he told himself sternly, _if there's someone who can handle this, it's Jake. If worst comes to worst, he'll know what to do. He'll know how to protect them. _He let go of the pencil then as he stood up, eager now to tell his friend exactly how gifted these kids were.

Eagerness filled the room where Max found himself an instant later. Eagerness and purpose. This time Max felt dizzy. From total openness to this enclosed space; from doubt and anxiety to this burst of energy from whoever was there. He blindly searched for something to hold until the room stopped spinning. He grabbed a chair. A tall, black, leather chair, and as he looked down, he had to do a double take.

Maria.

She was standing in front of him, her back to him, as she was retrieving something from a drawer. The desk in front of them was covered with an absurdly huge puzzle. _Dave's office,_ Max thought, as he watched Maria silently closing the drawer and hiding the pencil in her right pocket.

She was both scared and thrilled. She had gone through all the drawers, had searched for any clue she could, and now all she had left was the trash can. She was proud of herself. Proud of doing whatever she could to help them, but she was also disappointed she hadn't been able to find more. To know more.

To keep them safe.

The dizziness hadn't stopped. As he watched Maria looking at the trash can, he felt himself falling, losing the flash altogether, and there was nothing he could do to hold on. He had no energy left. Darkness enveloped him as a buzzing started in his ears.

"Max! Goddamnit, _wake up!_" Michael's words rushed into Max's consciousness almost as fiercely as Michael's shaking him did, holding him so tight by the shoulders that it hurt. Max automatically reached with his hands to Michael's so he would stop.

"He's awake!" came Liz's relieved voice a second too late as Max touched Michael. All the lamps in the living room brightened for an instant before the bulbs exploded in a shower of sparks and shattered pieces, a telltale sign of Max's and Michael's energy colliding in a stressful moment. Everyone jumped except Max who was pinned down to the couch, and Michael who didn't seem to care.

They both locked into each others eyes for a second, as Michael was making sure that Max was really awake and hopefully okay. He nodded once, and let him go, though through their loosely formed connection Max could feel something along the lines of "God, don't scare me like that", and then turning to look at the lamps, Michael felt annoyed.

"Are you all right?" Liz said, taking Michael's place in front of Max. "You sort of fainted for a minute there…" his wife explained to him as he looked blank. This was not a flash anymore, and the dizziness was almost gone by now. He blinked a couple of times, and then nodded to reassure Liz and the others that he was fine. He turned his attention to his right hand, where he had enclosed the pencil. As he opened his fist, only ashes met his eyes.

"We have to talk," he said, already sorting out the important facts and trying to tie in the little information they already had on Dave.

"Yes we do," Isabel's voice said from behind. She was far from looking rested, and Max just knew she had been dreamwalking. It didn't take much to figure out who the likely candidates were.

He had a feeling that things were just about to change perspective, but he wasn't sure if he was going to like that or not.

-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-

Author's Note: The conversation that Max hears between Jake and Dave was already recalled by Jake on chapter 14, just in case you want to read the whole conversation again and see Jake's POV.


	42. The Guards pt1

* * *

**XXXVI**

**The Guards**

.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.

Things weren't going according to plan.

No one knew that better than Kyle. By this point in his life, he was supposed to be heading to some well renowned university, probably with a sports scholarship, being somewhat the town hero, loved by all chicks, making his dad proud, and having one truly brilliant future ahead.

He wasn't even going to contemplate what his future looked like right this moment. All he knew was that it was _so not_ going according to plan.

Oh, who was he kidding, Kyle thought as he was starting to wash the dishes. For all the high tech, someone had forgotten to put a darned dishwasher in the kitchen. They were cleaning the hut now, night having fallen about two hours ago, questions swarming his mind. He was going to end up contemplating his future all night long, especially with all the drama that flashes and dreamwalks had brought on them.

What was Dave _after_?

They had discussed that for four hours straight, Maria's birthday party clearly coming to an end when Max had practically collapsed on the couch when he had gotten those freaking flashes. Sooner or later, they all knew, the party would have to end because Max needed one last round of straightening things out before his own interview tomorrow, but no one had expected the end to come on such a dramatic note. Besides, Maria still had to tell how her own interview had gone.

_Someone's onto him_, Max said, rubbing his eyes as if he had been staring for too long at the computer. Kyle wondered if he was having a headache, and then thought that Max would just wave his hand and make it disappear. Darned handy healing powers. Why couldn't he have inherited those?

_Like the Special Unit?_ Maria had asked. By now they were all taking their seats around the living room, Michael pulling Maria onto his lap, Liz snuggling closer to Max, and Isabel and him taking the larger coach. No snuggling or laps for either of them. Which was just sad…

_Like someone dangerous_, Max had answered, sitting upright, holding Liz closer_. I saw… I saw so many things_. Max had locked eyes with Michael, almost as if searching for some kind of answer. It was at times like this that Kyle truly felt human… and so out of the alien vibe. Not so long ago, he would have been more than happy to leave it like that, but now… it was annoying.

_What do you mean? You got to see him talking? Got a look around?_ Michael had chimed in, making Kyle wonder what exactly a flash looked like. He'd never had one.

_I saw… several things. Like several flashes. I think I must have seen at least three or four different people holding that pencil._ The pencil, by the way, was nothing more than a memory now, the ashes scattered along the rug, Kyle guessed. Would alien powers clean ashes? Kyle idly thought as he kept washing the dishes.

So Max had told them in as much detail as he could recall what he had seen, finally putting a face –or a description, really- to Dave's assistant, Susset; also painting a weirder side to Dave and his numbers; and generally making them feel uneasy about Dave feeling like he was dragging Jake into the alien abyss.

_He fears for Jake's safety…_ Max had trailed off, and Kyle had to give credit to Dave. After all, having three highly powerful beings exploding screens and shattering glass could be described as a dangerous job. But then, if you couldn't trust your best friend to do the job, how could Dave hire some random guy in a white lab coat and thrust him in the room with three very stressed hybrids? Or at least, that's how Kyle had interpreted it.

Finishing with the plates, he went for the glasses, his hands full of soap, and his mind full of doubts. Right on the heels of Max's comment about Jake, Isabel had come clean with her "illicit" dreamwalking. At least Kyle had known about Jake's dreams since she had already told him all about it right before the party had even started, but the fact that she had finally managed to get into Dave's dreams had been unexpected. Why would the guy be sleeping at 4 o'clock?

Isabel's revelation that it had taken her this long to dreamwalk Dave had set uneasily in all their thoughts. Both Max and Michael had been really scared she had risked herself by doing that, but they were equally eager to learn what she had discovered.

_They escaped from somewhere,_ Isabel had said, looking anguished. _I don't know what. It might be they were runaways… There was something that really scared Dave when he was a kid. And Jake helped him get away. I think Dave used to worship Jake when they were kids… He cares too much about Jake to bring him to any kind of danger… I don't think he sees us as the danger, but something else... Something else scares him_.

The problem with dreams was that it was all speculation. None of them had taken Isabel's words warmly all the same. What did it mean that almighty Dave was afraid of a big, bad wolf? Nothing good, that's what, Kyle knew. And right now, _the enemy of my enemy is my friend_ didn't quite apply. For them, everyone seemed to be the enemy. At least Dave had come pretty much clean with his offer. The FBI wouldn't have been so friendly. Putting the Pod Squad's talents for the highest bid on the market wasn't in their plans either. And all this without even factoring in enemy aliens.

No, by all means they needed to hide. Dave was their safest bet right now.

_He received a call about something… a_ dangerous lead _I think. He's afraid of being discovered…_ Max had said, looking at Michael again, who had nodded. They already knew Dave was very jealous of his privacy. This was a point they could exploit. One of the very few cards they had in their defense. _I wouldn't risk threatening Jake, that would backfire on us, but we really_ are _valuable to him. He wouldn't have brought Jake into this project otherwise._

It was a little chilly to see Max and Michael discussing strategy like this. It reminded Kyle of his dad, in a weird way, but it also reminded him that their lives were always in the balance. It was easier for the hybrid trio to adapt to this because they had lived fearing the worst all their lives. But Kyle... Well, he would just have to get used to it.

Maybe he was just cranky because for one afternoon, for a precious few hours, he had been reminded how normal life could be over a pool game. Even if Liz was kicking his butt in said game.

Thinking about how valuable they were -well, if he was going to be honest, how valuable the Pod Squad was, the three humans were just along for the ride- actually melted his crankiness away. If Maria was right, the six of them could be sitting on a small fortune right now. If, by some miracle, they lasted four or five years in this place, they would be financially secure for... well... a very long time. Assuming, of course, that Dave was telling the truth and would respect his side of the deal and actually pay them.

_It's business_, Maria had said, shrugging, when Kyle had asked if Dave would actually keep his promise. They didn't really have much to go on but a somewhat guarded blind faith here, Kyle knew. He wondered what would really happen if they decided to go, and then come back, just to see if Dave would follow them or respect his side of the deal and leave them "unprotected". An interesting idea, sure, but one that could go horribly wrong.

The bottom line was they were still unsure about what Dave wanted. He'd told them he wanted to pretty much profit from what Jake could learn from them. He'd told Maria they were an opportunity. He'd dreamed that they were tricky to protect when Isabel had entered his subconscious, and he'd half lied to his best friend to get him on board while holding a pencil that would eventually give this information to Max.

Dave's mind was worried with details about them, both Max and Isabel had agreed, and that at least gave Kyle a little peace of mind to know the guy didn't have evil thoughts floating around. Weird, sure, but so far it seemed relatively harmless. In the best case scenario, Dave sounded like some twisted guardian who had the right intentions for some dark, unknown reasons. In the worst case scenario, one of these days Kyle was going to wake up to find his three friends had been shipped to some lab and never would hear from them again.

Between those options, he'd let Dave have his dark and unknown reasons if it meant he had the right intentions and was going to see them through. Besides, Kyle reluctantly admitted to himself, whether Dave was guardian or jailer, at least Kyle had felt _normal_ in this place. No lookout in the window. No FBI to speak off. Maybe they had relaxed a little too much, he thought, but he'd missed the feeling.

His fingers illuminated for a second with tiny green sparks, making Kyle stop in his tracks. The dishes were drying now and Kyle had been finishing cleaning the kitchen. Closing his eyes, he knew he had to tell Max about this, and the guy was already pretty stressed out reviewing with the others the last details of their interviews.

If Kyle started to suddenly spark all around this place, maybe the conditions of the deal would change. _Normal_ took on a whole new meaning when it wasn't just where you were that defined the normalcy of your life, but if you sparked or not.

Kyle took a deep breath. Maybe if Dave was the guardian, then he wouldn't really care. _Maybe._ But all the same, things were most definitely _not_ going according to plan.

.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.

"You should've seen the look on his face," Liz said, the clock on the nightstand displaying 12:03 in red bright numbers. Three minutes into the day Max was going to meet Dave, a thought that Liz wasn't exactly thrilled with. It wasn't that she was afraid of what Max could tell Dave, even if he missed some details of the stories they had invented along the week, but she was more nervous about what Dave could tell Max.

"I wish I had known I had displayed my shield," Max said in a low tone. They were both in bed now, snuggled as close as they could, contemplating the day's events, starting with their visit to Jake's lab.

"I thought you had done that on purpose…" Liz thoughtfully said, "you know, we were starting to really argue with Jake, and suddenly your shield was there, between him and us, like you felt the need of separating us. He was so shocked. I think I was too…" Liz trailed off, her mind in those memories.

"Are you sure my energy covered the entire screen?" Max asked her again. It was probably the fourth time in half an hour that she'd had to reassure him that the special lens in Jake's lab hadn't captured anything weird from her since Max's own energy was covering everything in that room. She nodded.

"I know you're… scared, Max. I feel it from your side. But there are just no words to tell you how… how _empty_ I felt when your connection just vanished. I had to run to that lab and see for myself what was happening to you. It was worth risking anything to know you were okay."

"It's not worth risking you," Max simply said, hugging her while kissing the top of her head. "I don't know what happened, but next time you feel something like that, you call Michael and Isabel and handle it together, okay?"

How nice of him to include her. In real life, Michael and Isabel would take off while she would have to wait and wait until someone got her some answers. It sucked not to have powers, she sourly thought.

"I've been thinking about what Jake told me," Liz said, changing the subject, not having agreed with Max on what she would do the next time she felt like her soul had been ripped in two. "About the tests he did when we were unconscious…"

Max tensed beside her. Liz even thought he had stopped breathing for a few seconds while he waited for her to continue. "He said he just kept track of our vital signs and took a blood test. Standard EEG and EKG. It would explain why we don't have any scars. I mean, if they had done other procedures, we would have at least felt sore or something…"

She thought Max was still not breathing.

She couldn't help that her scientific mind had been pondering in a rather clinical and detached way what could have happened to them in those 72 hours they had been drugged. When they had abandoned the warehouse on Saturday night and gone to the motel, she had taken a long shower, checking every single inch of her body for signs that something had been done to her. But she hadn't been able to find anything. In fact, when she had woken up in that blue cell, she had felt quite rested and all around well.

As the days had gone by during the week, she had still been looking for the telltale signs of small blue or purple circles of needle marks. She would spend minutes searching the backs of her hands, looking for where the IV must have been inserted, or the insides of her elbows, where blood would have been drawn. If she really, really looked closely at it, she could see the mark on her left arm, faintly. Max's had disappeared faster than hers, but then again, he had healing powers and on average, the hybrids healed a lot faster than humans did. On the other hand, Maria's skin was way more sensitive than hers, and her needle mark was more visible, but not startlingly so. One would need to be looking for it to see it. And more importantly, Maria didn't have any other telltale signs either.

And despite all that, it was hard to believe that Jake had had them for three whole days, and that his curiosity hadn't taken over. Would Jake really risk the chance that they would have said no to the deal? It sounded like a waste of time. He would have lost the opportunity of a lifetime if he hadn't studied them in more detail.

"You would… tell me, right?" Max started to ask, a new kind of fear surging through their connection. "I mean… if something… if they… had done something… else… to you?"

One of Max's greatest fears was that, because of him, she would pay a higher price. She _was_ married to a hybrid after all, and that same cold, clinical, detached scientific mind of hers could see the value of that, that someone would pay closer attention to her. Lately, the odds were even higher since she had developed powers of her own. She couldn't help that Max was a hybrid, but Max knew that saving her life –his choice to save her life- could mean a very dark future for her.

She turned on her side so she could look at him. "Yes," she said with conviction. Of course she would tell him. Because if something else had been done to her, then she would _need_ to know what else had been done to him as well. It was as simple as that.

He hugged her again, tighter this time. He didn't like to think about this, and frankly, neither did she, but they were in this place waiting for something like that to happen. And yet, nothing was happening. Had hardly happened at all.

"You know, all those things we were discussing at the hut, about how Dave was dreaming about how tricky it is to protect us, Jake said the same thing. When you were still sleeping, he said that we should look beyond the obvious. That it wasn't only what he could learn from you, but that Dave also wanted to protect us."

"I still can't believe Isabel dreamwalked him. And Jake." Max paused for few seconds, waves of anxiety rolling out of him. "I think Jake knows… or at the very least suspects that we may be able to dreamwalk. He asked me this morning, _Have you been walking in my dreams, Mr. Evans__?_ I froze in place."

"You think Jake told Dave and… you know, like Dave could control his dreams like that? In case someone was dreamwalking him…?"

"That's… a little far fetched," Max conceded. "Besides, the flashes happened way before this week, and Dave was already stressed over the details of who we were and what to do about us. His concern is genuine. I just wish we could be certain what exactly he would lose if he lost us."

Liz placed her hand on his chest. Warm. When Max was worried, his temperature tended to get a little higher; even Jake had noticed that. She wished she could clear all his problems away. Under her hand, Max's heart beat steadily and strong. It was terrifying to know it had once stopped beating… maybe even twice.

"How did they feel? The flashes, I mean," Liz asked in order to distract her mind from such thoughts. She had felt Max die once, and she was not willing to remember that moment now or any time at all.

"It was weird… seeing all those people. Their minds worked so differently, Jake's and Dave's. Like they're always thinking in parallel lines. Several things at the same time… and so fast. I think Jake keeps a mental count of something going on… I didn't see much of him though… And there was Susset, so sure Dave was onto nothing. But she believes… she believes in him, I think. She trusts him."

Max trailed off, still tense. Even after all this time, he wasn't one hundred percent comfortable talking about his powers. Liz couldn't blame him, she guessed. It would feel too personal to be talking about your weird alien powers all the time.

"She likes to help people," Max said out of the blue. "She was thinking these names, things that Dave wanted to be done, so she was thinking who she could give the job to. Who needed it the most… I don't know, it all happened so fast… Maybe I didn't get the right impressions…" he trailed off, unsure of his words. Then, all of the sudden, Max's connection lightened as his thoughts changed. "Except for Maria. I saw her while I held the pencil," Max smiled. Even if Liz couldn't directly see his face, she could hear the tone in his voice, feel it through their connection so easily. She smiled with him.

"She was so determined to find _something._ I had never had such clear picture of her before. She wants to protect Michael so much. And us. All of us. I… I think I understand better what Michael means when he says she sends vibes…" Max said, making Liz laugh out loud.

"What?" Max asked, laughing with her but not really understanding why.

"Maria says exactly the same thing about him. That Michael communicates with vibes."

They both laughed at that, at how similar the confessions of their two best friends were, and it felt good too. To laugh at one silly comment, forgetting for one moment the weight on their shoulders. Max's feelings settled in a comfortable manner, as he was thinking some thing or another through. At least he wasn't as tense as before, and maybe he would manage to get a little sleep after all.

"I don't know if you know this, Liz. I mean, all of you, Maria, Kyle, Jessie and you, and even if Alex got to know, how important you are to our lives. For the longest time, we were so afraid. Always hiding in our own ways. Always afraid to dream, to hope for a future. Never thinking trust and much less love was meant for us…" Max took the hand that Liz had placed on his chest, holding it gently inside his. "You didn't run," he simply stated, and Liz had to privately smile at the image of a screaming, very much running Maria one September night some years ago.

"You guarded our secret with your lives," Max continued, his voice above a whisper now in their dark room. "I don't think we've ever thanked you enough for that. For proving us wrong, I mean. For making my dreams come true…" Max finished, kissing her forehead.

Liz moved so her lips could meet his, their connection flaring alive with their emotions so open, making her feel all the magic that Max had once said was there when he was thinking about her. When they kissed, memories filled her mind, memories of them both, and how right it felt to be together. Losing herself in their connection, she thought that there was, indeed, nothing great about normal.

* * *


	43. The Guards pt2

Special thanks go to **jainga**, who was totally and absolutely right, 33 is _not_ a prime number :) That mistake is now corrected on chapter 35, _David_.

And welcome to new readers! Hearing from you always make my day :D This part is still pending one more review from the beta, so some grammatical mistakes are still around. I'll fix them soon.

* * *

**XXXVI  
The Guards**

_cont._

…

"Are you sure?" Ray asked with a raised eyebrow and a very doubtful face. Not that he was aware of that, of course, it being 2:00 a.m. and his bed calling out to him from the bottom of this underground facility.

Dave stopped with his puzzle.

"Of course I'm sure," he said, frowning, probably wondering why Ray was asking him in the first place.  
The problem in question was the new security system Ray had been working almost all week long. The implementation of the depleted uranium walls, especially in all the entries and vulnerable spots, was supposed to take about three months.

Instead, there had been a delay with the delivery, and then with the installation. And then the kids had arrived and Dave had wanted to speed things up. What the hell had been the problem with their very efficient concrete structures, Ray had no idea, but the fact that Dave was now extending this new security implementation to his other facilities in Europe meant a lot of trouble for a lot of people. And a lot of money too, but most importantly, it also attracted attention to them. It was a lot of depleted uranium, more than enough to make the wrong people curious.

Dave smiled, as if he had suddenly understood something.

"Relax, I don't mean I want them done next week," Dave said, as he put the puzzle piece he was holding down. "I realize I gave you an exceptionally short time to finish, but I won't do that with the other facilities. Just make sure that by the end of this year, all places have the new modifications."

Dave walked to the counter which Ray was reclining against, his eyes already set on the piece of birthday cake. In fact, Ray was thinking if going for his fourth serving at 2:00 a.m. would be wise or not. He shook his head.

"Are we going to work with radioactive material?" Ray asked out of the blue. He was tired, and had waited for an hour to speak with Dave alone before Jake had excused himself to his own lab. Security matters were never discussed in front of Dave's oldest friend, a rule Dave had established since Ray had started working with him. It was meant to protect Jake, because what the good doctor didn't know, he couldn't tell anybody else either. Ignorance was bliss.

"No," Dave simply said, slicing the chocolate cake with the spoon. Depleted uranium was commonly used to isolate industrial radiography cameras, and it had unsettled Ray a little to know that he might be in contact with gamma radiation.

Ray looked at Dave with an expectant air. The material had also been used as counterweight in ships and airplanes, but Ray doubted that was the case here. Dave wanted to keep something in, but if not radiation, then what?

Dave took his time chewing his chocolate cake. "It has other… not so common uses," he said, his eyes lost in some point of the opposite wall. "Don't worry about it Ray. It's a measure to give me peace of mind."

Ray blinked. He had _not_ spent the better part of four days fretting over the schematics and all the trouble of having the new system in place before Dave went away so Dave could have _peace of mind._

Well, apparently, he had.

Dave cut another piece of his birthday cake. "I should tell Danielle I have 12 birthdays a year…" he said, contemplating the brown mass. Chocolate over chocolate and more chocolate. Usually, Ray wouldn't have been able to tolerate that much chocolate in his system, but Danielle had a way with flavors… "You know that woman wants in your pants," Ray remarked, going for his fourth serving after all.

"That woman wants in any man's pants, as long as they give her power," Dave stated without skipping a beat. Ray wondered if Danielle had had her way and had slept with Dave. She certainly wasn't hard to look at. It wasn't until she started talking that the illusion was lost. Boy, he knew very few people who could be more vicious than her.

And then again, he knew even fewer people who could be as impervious to such poisonous words as Dave. It wasn't like the guy didn't know she was aiming to hurt, it was that he just didn't care. That was probably why he had hired her in the first place: he hadn't cared about her looks or the way she thought, he had just cared about the fact that she could cook the most amazing food in the world _and_ she needed a place to hide.

He didn't know the whole story of how the French Chef had ended up assigned to the Minnesota compound, only that it had to do with a double murder and the mafia. He doubted she regretted the murders, and he imagined it was the mafia, the power that came with it, that had gotten her into that mess to begin with. Even Dave would have trouble arranging her safe passage into a normal life in the open. Danielle probably wanted to become a world famous chef, but for some years she would have to bide her time until Dave had cleared things up for her.

In that respect, Ray was happy to know he didn't yearn for fame. He was in his element being anonymous, and that was something that suited Dave's purposes greatly. Dave had first and foremost contacted him because he needed to learn self defense, but he had also been eager to know how good of a strategist Ray was. Eight years later, Ray was still on the job, so he was proud to know he had passed Dave's high quality standards. The fact that they had a deal and that Ray had a lot to lose if Dave withdrew his protection was no longer the heavy burden it had been at the beginning of their working relationship. Now they were friends.

Dave swallowed his chocolate cake down and casually said, "You know, Ray, Jake came today with a lot of questions. Ideas that he pieced together out of some things you must have told him."

Ray inwardly cringed. It was one thing to share some musings with the good doc, and a whole other that Jake had turned around and repeated them to Dave, of all people.

"Jake's worried about not… getting the whole picture," Ray slowly said. There was no way of denying he had been talking to Jake about Dave, but it was only natural it would happen. Dave had dragged them both into this whole thing with telling them only half of the story.

"What about you? Are you worried you're not getting the whole picture too?" Dave asked, slowly slicing his cake with the spoon.

"I trust you Dave. I know that the less I know, the safer I'll be when it comes to your projects." Dave stopped staring at his cake and turned to look at Ray, eyes slightly wide. Then he chuckled.

"You _do_ get the whole picture," he said, smiling at his cake as the spoon cut the little piece. "At least when it concerns why I'm keeping some things to myself."

Things like depleted uranium covering the walls, Ray bet. But then again, if it gave Dave peace of mind, then it should give Ray peace of mind too. Because it meant he was doing something to contribute to the _whole picture_. And that made Ray feel good.

Besides, it was better than worrying about gamma radiation.

…

The hour read 5:43 a.m.

Wide awake, staring at the ceiling, Max was trying very hard to control his breathing and to stay very still, so Liz wouldn't be disturbed. He'd been having flashes… more from Dave's pencil, he knew, fleeting images most of them, but a couple were very clear in his mind. Had Dave been thinking about this some random day? Or were these experiences so embedded in his subconscious, into who he was, that these impressions would be on anything and everything he touched?

It was hard to tell when Max's heart was beating so fast. He wished some ray of light would cross a window signaling the new day, and that these dream-like images would fade away, being no match for reality. But there was no sun shining down here, no windows to speak of, and what Max had seen wasn't a dream, but memories that had happened to the man who could very well be olding their future in his hands.

Max closed his eyes and took one last deep breath, letting the fear wear off, trying to focus the pieces together. The last flash was the strongest one, so he concentrated on it first. He idly wondered if it had been like this for Michael and the image of Atherton's house that had been stored in Michael's mind for days until he had forced it out through his drawings.

It wouldn't take Max days, and it wouldn't take him drawings either. Max just needed a calm mind.

There had been a lot of gunfire. Glass shattering. Screams. Distant screams. And everything had been so _big._ It was the memory of a child, Max realized, and that frightened him. It was night. They were in a room… Dave, as a child, and his parents. But he wasn't _Dave,_ he was _Da-veed,_ and Max heard the Arabic name being called by his Mom as she told him to stay away from the door.

Inside the house, she didn't wear her veil, and she and his father were discussing something that Dave wasn't paying attention to. He was thinking about his puzzles… in the car… he could go out to the car. His Mom wouldn't even know he had gone and come.

The light went off in the house, in the entire street. Even at five years old, Dave could sense the feeling of dread coming from his parents, even if he couldn't name it. All he knew was that there was danger, trouble coming his way. And the three of them stood very still, his father signaling with a finger that Dave would not say a word. From that moment on, Dave would always stay very still when facing danger. In his young mind, the image of his parents standing still merged with the certainty that it was the only way to face it.

The next part was confusing. Max didn't know if the gunfire had been directed only at their house, at their street, or at the entire town. Dave only had memories of a dark room, gunfire shattering glass… distant screams. But not his parents' screams, because they were being very quiet. Yet the fear… oh the fear was there, and it got Max's heart racing again.

Max closed his eyes and let the flash go, picking instead the other one that was clear in his head. It was daylight this time, and Dave was a happy kid. He was playing outside, the morning sun burning everything, the sky without a single cloud. His hazel eyes could better stand the glare from the desert than the clear blue of his Dad's could, and as Dave ran following his own shadow, other kids ran with him, playing their own game. Dave wasn't a shy kid by any stretch of the imagination, but because he was the son of a foreigner, kids would usually avoid him. And it hurt his little heart, thinking that maybe the next town would be different.

And this time, it was different. He had been accepted in their games, and his enthusiasm had soared. They were playing they were from different tribes. Now, for a five year old foreigner, Dave couldn't really understand that there were hundreds of years of bad blood between the Arabic tribes. Truces and alliances ran as deep as old scars along with complicated oaths and loyalties. For little David, it was all a game of pretend, and he was holding one of those black, loud guns every male seemed to be carrying around these places, and pretending to be shooting this or that tribe member because it was _fun._ He would even pretend he had been hit, just to get up and keep running, his hands holding the imaginary gun while he was voicing the rush of bullets coming out. After all, he _had_ been around a lot of gunfire, so he knew how it sounded.

It was the shadow he noticed first. The long, long shadow that was coming behind him as he was aiming and shooting at another kid. It was his new friends' silence what he noticed second, that made him pause. He stood very still as he saw the shadow of a man coming closer, dwarfing his own shadow, his little arms falling at his sides a second later. He was so scared.

It was his father's shadow.

He slowly turned, instinctively knowing he was in trouble, and as he looked up, up, _up _to his father's tall figure and found his eyes, he felt something inside his stomach he couldn't name. It was shame, but it would be years before he knew that.

_"David," _he said very seriously, the name coming in its English form "_What are you doing?" _his voice was barely above a whisper, the wind whipping sand around them. He wasn't mad, Max knew, Dave's Dad was disappointed, and it hurt even worse. _"You shouldn't even pretend… David, you can be the smartest kid on the planet, but if you don't know the value of human life, then you don't know a thing."_

Max closed his eyes again and tiredly rubbed his face. He felt the weight of those words, still feeling responsible for Alex's death. _Life matters, Tess,_ the echoes of his own words ringing in his mind. But the point was, Dave held his father's words very close to his heart. Even if at five he hadn't been able to understand them, he had stood by the fact that above everything else, it was the value of human life that mattered.

What was that supposed to mean for them, then?

Max got up from the bed, turned the alarm off even if it hadn't started beeping yet, and headed to the kitchen for a cold glass of water. He wasn't really tired, but there had been so many conflicted emotions coming from those flashes, that he was now emotionally drained.

Did Dave consider them a danger because they weren't human? Or was Dave truly worried about them, thinking their lives mattered enough to go through all this trouble to keep them safe?

It couldn't be just simple gain, Max knew. There were too many conflicting little details for that. If Dave considered them a danger, like the Special Unit blindly believed, then maybe Dave wanted to study them in order to obtain information and ultimately be capable of destroying other aliens, other invaders. Knowing your enemy was basic to winning a war.

Max could understand that. And, in a way, he felt his responsibility to prove to this man that they were telling the truth when it came to wanting a normal life and nothing else. He was no king, much less an invader of any sort, but he also couldn't deny he was… special. That his abilities were bound to attract the attention of all sorts of men was something he had always known, but at least Dave seemed to want to know him for who he was, and not only for what he was; though without the powers, Max knew he would have never crossed Dave's radar.

"Hey," Liz embraced him from behind, "you turned the alarm off," she said in a soothing voice, probably feeling his turmoil. "Are you all right?"

Was he? He wasn't sure. Butterflies started dancing in his stomach at the thought that he might give the wrong impression to this man. If Dave was looking for clues that they weren't trustworthy, Max would have to be very careful with what he said, and how he said it.

"I'm a little anxious," he admitted a little reluctantly, turning around to return her embrace.

"I know the feeling," she said, resting her cheek against his chest, her hands slowly caressing his back. It felt wonderful. It renewed his confidence and steadied his nerves, which was precisely what he needed the most right now: a clear head.

"I'll make pancakes," Max said, still not letting her go. He wasn't sure if his stomach was up to the task of eating, but Liz didn't have to starve because of him.

"You're going to do great today," she said with a smile, turning her eyes to meet his, and through their connection Max felt a surge of pride. She was proud of him, and the feeling left him astonished. She believed in him, she had told him so a thousand times over, but it was so much more real when he got to experience it like this.

She tiptoed and lightly kissed him, then turned around and headed for the shower, all the way sending all these happy… _waves_ through the whole apartment. For a moment, Max wasn't sure if Liz was trying extra hard at making him feel calmed, or if his heightened connection was making him feel her more acutely. He decided he didn't care, it just felt too good to mess with. By this point in time, he had all but forgotten Dave's memories. Max had just too much to worry about right now to be thinking about that.

He actually managed half a pancake and almost an entire glass of juice by the time he was ready to go. At 6:37 a.m. Michael met him and Liz in the hallway that divided their apartments with a serious face, and even more serious dark circles below his eyes.

"I don't like this," was all he said as Isabel and Kyle joined them. Of course, the downside of being more alert to the waves around him was that Max could feel more than ever how much Michael didn't like this. But Max couldn't blame him. After the incident at Jake's lab, Max didn't like this either. He just didn't have a choice.

He nodded once to Michael, acknowledging that he understood, but part of him wondered if everything he was feeling from his friend was concern from their actual situation, or was the man in front of him, his second in command, worried that he couldn't go where his leader was heading?

He shook his head. That was absurd.

Maria came last to join the Merry Band, as Kyle called them when they were on the road, red book in hand. Max knew Jake's present had been a hit with the blond girl, but by the way the waves around him changed to annoyance, he doubted Michael approved of it all that much.

"What?" Maria challenged Michael, "it's not as if we didn't know Max is going to take hours up there." She strode right in the middle of them and headed out of the departments area, making them follow her a second later. Leave it to Maria to cut to the chase and just approach it head on.

It was a rather silent trip, all eight minutes of it. He had been reviewing everything there was to review with all of them the night before, so his brain was a little overwhelmed right now. He was certainly not expecting to be making conversation, and part of him was aware that the others were also anxious at how he was going to handle things. Ultimately, all their interviews had gone at least okay, but if this one failed, if for some reason either Max or Dave found fault with the other, then… well, then they were screwed.

"We'll wait for you at lunch," Liz said as they reached the Gym, the place where they all had parted for their meetings with Dave. He knew he could ask her to go with him as far as the elevator that would take him aboveground, but he actually wanted to make the short walk on his own. He still had to find some sort of mental balance before the whole thing started.

"Okay," he quietly said as he bent down to kiss her softly. A reassurance kiss, not a good-bye one, he told himself.

It was a rather awkward moment after that. He nodded at them and took a deep breath, ready to leave. "Be safe," was all Michael said, making Max stop for a second. He looked at him, and then at his sister, drawing their strength in. Isabel slightly nodded to him, silently telling him that she trusted him.

He finally turned for good and started walking towards Dave's office.

Butterflies took permanent residence in his stomach as he reached the corner and was finally out of sight of his friends. He was on his own.

He slowed his stride a little, taking another deep breath, closing his eyes just for a second. He could do this, he knew everything he had to know, he had been debriefed and counseled, and all plans and scenarios had been explored. When Max opened his eyes and his stride took speed again, his mind wasn't really at the compound, and he wasn't quite Max either.

He was walking down the corridor of the Royal Palace, and he was nervous as hell. It was the first time he would speak to the other four members of the Interplanetary Alliance as Zan the King, and he couldn't shake the feeling that he was still too young and too inexperienced to take on his father's duties.

He was on his own.

The dark blue cape fluttered behind him in the light breeze, as he walked steadily, if a bit fast. He was early to the meeting, he knew, but he just couldn't take pacing around his Royal Chambers any more. If he went once more through the entire speech and subsequent agenda, he would just implode. He needed to take his mind off things, and maybe a little fresh air would help him with that.

It was a clear morning, as usual, no cloud in the sky. Weather systems had been mastered four generations before he was born, and there was simply no way a cloud could sneak in. He could still make out the distant shape of their smallest moon, right above the horizon, reminding him that the festival at Dimaras Rock was getting closer.

He slightly fidgeted with his gloved hand, catching his thumb inside his fist. The only sound was the rhythmical steps of the guards. Four in front and four behind him, as much a part of his life as his own shadow. His Invisible Guard was surely keeping up too, but shapeshifters were good at staying out of sight. He had inherited a healthy supply of allies from his father, but he also had enemies to be aware of, which made necessary the added precautions of so many guards.

As Zan crossed one of the many high passes that connected all buildings in the Palace, he wondered what it would be like to be like them.

He was born the son of the king, his life already traced and planned before he had taken his first breath. Inside of him, he had the Seal of the King, the undeniable proof of his lineage and the insurance that shapeshifters would not turn on him. Beyond that, every gene in his body had been engineered to ensure he had every advantage, every skill he would need in order to reign.

Genetically manipulation was only allowed to Royalty. And then, the Royal Seal could only be successfully implanted in males, making it a necessity that every king produced a male heir. Antarians in general had nature on their side, allowing for genetic evolution to follow its course, something that technicians in their labs could not compete with. _But,_ the idea of leaving to nature the qualities that their leaders would have was unthinkable. Too much depended on their kings being able to make decisions, right decisions, to risk them having conflicting skills.

But if the Kings bore the responsibility of guiding their kingdoms, it was their Queens who held the responsibility of balancing them. With their gene pool equally strengthened, all noble women were candidates to take the throne once the Crown Prince made his choice, and Zan had nothing less than admiration for how his mother handled things. Someday, he too would find his Queen. His children would be genetically altered, though his sons would inherit a dormant Seal until his time was over, placing a destiny set in stone for them, while his daughters would be free to choose another path. Just like the guards in front of him, they could all choose a different life.

They could start over if they so wanted. Try this lifestyle just to change it later. And the idea intrigued him.

The high white arcs threw long shadows at this early hour, and from this height, all it took was a slight turn of his head to look at his kingdom, the city way below and away from this particular point. If he narrowed his eyes, he could even make out the primary ports, small spaceships taking cargo to the interstellar ships that waited at the space docks, invisible during daylight.

He wasn't very fond of space travel, one of the many reasons he had wanted to hold the Summit on Antar, and he would definitely push for the Alliance to keep having their meetings on his home planet. Soon enough, a building blocked his view as he kept walking through the Palace, his mind returning to his guards.

Since he had been old enough to be told about his destiny, Zan had paid close attention to his father: the way he walked, the way he talked, even the way he looked at people. Even at a young age, Zan had embraced the concept that his life already had a purpose, that what he would do mattered to an entire planet. He was made aware of his responsibilities every single day of his life, and not once had he thought about giving up his birthright. Everything he did was part of who he was, and given the choice of doing something else, he would have found himself at a loss.

In front of him, the silvery capes of his guards kept rhythm with their movements. These guards who protected him had chosen to do so. They had been chosen from among the best, but ultimately, they were walking right alongside him because at some point they had decided they wanted that.

In a sudden revelation, Zan knew that life without a clear path was unsettling.

He almost faltered at that, his shoulder-length hair slightly disarraying from the movement, but he kept walking, discretely passing a hand over his hair to make sure it was as neatly as it should be. Zan loved the way his life was. He knew his limits, knew his responsibilities, knew what was expected of him, but seeing his guards in front of him now made him wonder, for the first time in his life, that as unsettling as it was, maybe he too had the right to change. To change things. During his father's reign, much had been accomplished, and things had settled down without any further review. Was he too young to start thinking about changes then?

The butterflies returned to his stomach as he was getting closer to his destination. Was he too young to be present at the Summit? He was barely an adult by Antarian laws, something the other four leaders of the Alliance had not missed.

With a firm stride, Zan tried to put these thoughts aside. The doors to the Summit Chambers were now in view, and he prepared himself for what was coming, because young or not, he was Antar's new leader, and what he would say would matter. On his shoulders lay the future of his people, including protecting their right to choose their own lives.

Wasn't it ironic he couldn't choose his?

The guards stopped and departed to let him in. Only the leaders could enter, and as Zan stopped in front of the doors to be scanned and then allowed inside, he tightened his stomach, reining in his nerves.

He could do this, and he would do it right.

By the time the doors opened, they had morphed back to let Max inside the elevator. As if he were walking right outside a dream, the entire Palace dissolved, the guards too, leaving him disoriented for one second, staring at himself in the inner elevator mirror that was now in front of him.

He blinked.

What the hell had that been?

* * *

AN: There might be a little confusion regarding the depleted uranium. Nasedo tells Isabel, Tess and Michael in the White Room that depleted uranium is a metal composed of heavy atoms which they cannot manipulate.


	44. Tell Me A Fable pt1

**XXXVII**

**Tell Me A Fable**

**-.-.-.-.-.-.-  
**

He had been staring at the screen for a full minute before he realized he had to blink. The cursor was on and off waiting for him to start his report, but Jake had no idea what to write.

The frozen screenshot behind the Word document intrigued him as much as the hybrids' abilities did, which was not surprising, really. It was a shot of the special lens, one of the many he had been studying all night long, trying to decipher Max's surge of energy on early Friday morning.

Was Liz different?

Even if Max's energy had covered the entire room at the time, right on the threshold, for a fraction of a second, Liz had been out of its range, and it was that exact moment that Jake had frozen on his screen. The problem was, he didn't know what to make of it. The energy around her didn't look like an average human, but it wasn't that far gone to be truly unique… The word that came to mind really was, well… _unusual_.

Compared to Max's bright hues of blues and blinding whites, Liz's blues looked tame, but not as lifeless as every other human Jake had ever seen before. So now Jake was trying to comprehend if _unusual_ equaled _different,_ and if so, how _much_ different?

Was this why Max had been attracted to her for such a long time? Maybe Max had sensed something different about her, the non-romantic-all-analytical part of him rationalized. Or _maybe_ being around Max had been subtly altering the energy around her. It would begin to explain how their connection worked, since Max would have made her able to connect to his own energy signature. Liz wasn't attuned to either Michael or Isabel, so she wasn't sensitive to all kinds of hybrid energy.

All he needed to prove that was Maria walking into his lab so he could take a snapshot of her own energy… And what about Kyle? What did it take for a human's "aura" to change? Just being around them? Or was there a sexual aspect implied here? Well, if Jake was around them long enough, he would certainly start to see some changes sooner or later… But if only Maria's energy was changed and not Kyle's, then it was probably a more intimate relationship that would cause the energy signature to get a more vivid blue under the lens.

Minimizing the Word document, he stared again at the screenshot. Liz's face was frozen in worry as she was trying to reach Max. Maybe her emotional state was playing a part in the way her energy looked. Jake's eyebrows rose. He should write his colleagues on the lens project and ask them to think through a series of experiments with people under different emotional reactions to see if there was a change. It was worth trying.

Before he could open his e-mail and follow up on this idea, his cell phone rang. He absently picked it up while still looking at Liz.

"Did you take my pencil?" Dave's voice came clear and slightly accusatory. Dave could be so weird about the oddest things, really.

Though to give Dave credit, Jake had taken things from him without even noticing before, a fact that Dave remembered oh too well every time his property was misplaced while Jake had been around.

"Not that I can see right now," he simply answered, secretly amused that they had been around each other for so long that this kind of phone call was actually normal.

"Call me if you see it," Dave said in a more resigned tone. It was nice to know that Jake's gift of so long ago held such meaning to his friend, but listening to the click on the other side signaling the call was over still left him a little perplexed.

Leaving the cell phone beside him, he returned to his previous task, his mind already running with ideas of genetic make-up versus environment and proximity.

It would never cross his mind that it had been Max's healing that had triggered the change in the first place, a chain of other factors enabling Liz to access abilities of her own in the long term. Not until someone else told him so in the distant future.

.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.

_No passion so effectually robs the mind of all its powers of acting and reasoning as fear. _

And Max was gripped with a fear that for a second was both his and Zan's as well. Staring at himself in the mirror that walled the inside of the elevator, the doors still open waiting for him to step inside, the quote he had once read somewhere seemed to jump into his mind in red bold letters. He could _not_ let fear rule his life, and most definitely not rule this moment. This meeting was too important to screw it up.

He couldn't stop staring at himself, frozen in place. His heart was beating so fast, and his eyes were so round, still trying to process what that flash or memory or whatever had been, let alone trying to decide how he felt about it. He had to snap out of it, he told himself, but he was still not moving a muscle.

It was Liz's worry that did the trick. Through their connection Max could feel her emotions shifting, trying to decide if in the last five minutes something could have had happened to him. Closing his eyes, he took a deep breath and let it out really slowly. First things first: He had to get to Dave's office, preferably on time, so he opened his eyes and took a second, not so deep breath.

Entering the elevator, he felt the same tight knot in his stomach that he had felt when he had been visiting the _Empire State Building_. He knew he was still just a kid, not even twenty yet, and he was about to negotiate life and death matters with a man who was light years ahead in negotiation skills. All thoughts that were doing nothing to calm his nerves, but at least Liz would understand this uneasiness well better than the fear he had experienced just a minute before.

Zan had also been afraid of his first meeting, Max thought, for a second looking closer to the mirror to check if his pupils were normal, and not two gigantic dark marbles that would have made his skin crawl. He looked just fine, if a little paler.

Okay, that was a start.

The elevator doors closed and Max was automatically lifted up. He still had eight minutes to find some semblance of normalcy so he could act like someone who knew what the hell he was doing. That was step number two.

He decided the only way he was going to manage that was to get out of the way what he had just experienced, dealing somehow with his own emotions about his past memories, even if time was getting shorter by the second.

Max had had… _echoes_ before, he guessed, of his past life. Like a dream half remembered in the middle of the day. Some things were clearer than others, like the water that had felt jello-like. Others were fragmented, like remembering kissing Ava for the first time at a party, though it was more like a certainty than an actual memory. He couldn't remember what people looked like or even snatches of his own alien language, but there were ideas, thoughts that he recognized as part of Zan.

And he and Zan weren't alike.

Zan embraced his destiny. Max was all for free will. But Max couldn't deny they both had been in a position of leadership that neither could shake off, and both had risen to the occasion, even if their stomachs had been torn in knots. Maybe Zan's experiences could come in handy, Max thought, trying to see the bright side of getting such a clear insight into the leader of an entire planet.

It was the only guidance he was going to get, anyway.

But this… this whatever that had just happened had been so real. For one moment, Max hadn't even been aware of himself, of his own life. _That_ was what scared him the most, that he hadn't been in control, just sucked into this memory of an alien being on another planet and in another time.

_But it wasn't me._

Max whispered, still looking at himself, half expecting to see his reflection talking back. He was more than glad when nothing happened, but reluctantly acknowledged that the butterflies in his stomach hadn't gone anywhere either.

He was not Zan, he repeated to himself, and whatever that memory had been, it was just that, a _memory_, a very real one, but something that meant nothing to his life right now.

Ironically, if this had happened when he had been going to the Summit, _maybe_ it would have made him feel better… He probably would have wanted to grasp at it and had as many memories as he could too, but he wasn't going to go there right now. Dave wanted the facts of his life now, and he was expecting to meet Max, not Zan. Which was great because it was Max who was going to walk out of the elevator right now.

As the doors opened, for one instant Max feared that more memories would seize him during his meeting, but there was nothing he could do about that. Closing his eyes for a second, he concentrated on his connection to Liz. If anything could remind him of who he was, it was this, the feeling of his soul mate, lending him strength in his moment of need.

Nodding once to himself, he finally stepped out of the elevator. It felt so surreal to be walking down this hall, when barely a week before he had dreaded it so much. Granted, things hadn't taken a turn for the worse, but saying they had turned for the better would be stretching it. A lot. Things had just stayed… stuck. They still weren't sure what Dave wanted and had made little progress on getting to know the people around them.

In fact, Kyle had started to sparkle, Isabel was torn between contacting Jessie or leaving him in the dark, Jake had almost caught his wife on that special lens of his, and now Max was having hallucinations of his alien past. And those were only the highlights.

Maybe he should just let Zan take over and return when it was all calm and nice. It would be the first time his alien side would be doing him a favor.

The hall came to an end, and Dave's living room with the black couches came into view, the same one where they had sit and made the deal the first time they had come. The door to the outside world seemed to mirror his situation right now: On his right was freedom; on his left, where he could barely make out Dave's office door, was safety. Too bad he wanted both, but apparently could only get one at the expense of the other. . Maybe now was the time to bargain for it.

Maybe.

With a final deep breath, Max finally pushed the door open, the carpeted floor on the room silencing any movement. He had heard the others describing the room, but now that he was in it, things looked sharper than his imagination could have ever come up with.

The enormous puzzle was half through on the black desk, making Max think that he could put it together with a wave of his hand. Well, maybe more like a few waves, considering the size of it, but he doubted Dave would settle for that. The room had a cold feel to it, as most of its colors were either dark blues or black, the white light coming from the ceiling giving it no warmth. He had the distinctive feeling that this place held power. Just like the Summit room where Zan was headed, important decisions were made here.

It only took him a second to find the man who had pretty much summoned him here. Dave's silhouette was a sharp contrast against the window, a snowstorm blanketing everything in white outside. Standing still, Dave looked completely at ease in his own skin, a fact that Max could not entirely claim after what had just happened with Zan's memories a few minutes before.

The room smelled of chocolate, giving Max a false sense of security and comfort that completely clashed with his worries and fears. He was barely inside the room, still holding the door open, not really knowing what to do. He felt out of place here, just like he had felt at the Summit in New York City, a clueless kid who had no idea what to do.

Butterflies seemed to multiply by the thousands in his stomach.

"You know, I've been thinking…" Dave casually said without turning from the window, "Are you an alien, Max?"

Max just knew he had heard it wrong. He swallowed, standing still, trying to see what exactly was Dave aiming for. Seconds ticked by. Dave turned around then, probably wondering why Max was so quiet, the mug in his hand the source of the chocolate smell.

"I don't think there's any doubt about… that," Max said, slightly narrowing his eyes, knowing there was more to this question than met the eye.

Dave gestured with a hand for Max to sit as he himself headed for his own seat. Max let go of the door as he focused his eyes on the black leather chair, finally moving to sit opposite Dave. Behind him, the door silently closed.

Dave slightly smiled more to himself than to Max as he contemplated his puzzle for a second. Then he locked eyes with Max, all seriousness returning. "What I want to know is, biology aside, do you consider yourself an alien?"

_No. Yes. I don't know_. Max froze. What was he supposed to answer? What was the _right_ answer here? What was _Dave_ expecting him to answer? Yet what really scared him in that moment was that he didn't really have an answer for that. He just didn't know.

He just didn't know at all.

Taking his silence for confusion, Dave elaborated on his question: "I have a book that says you're the king of an entire planet, and sixteen files from the FBI that say you're an invader and a killer. _Both_ say that you're an alien in this world, that's the only thing they actually agree on. But I still have to hear your side. Are you an alien, Max?"

Dave placed his mug on the desk, hazel eyes searching for a reaction, Max guessed, so he made himself looked stern, in control, and though he actually lowered his eyes, he finally came to an answer. _His_ answer. Too bad he didn't have time to stop and see if it was the _right_ answer, or the one _Dave_ was expecting.

"Biology aside," Max answered slowly, "no. I've lived a human life all my existence. I grew up like one, I have a family, I went to school. I even—" he stopped himself short. _I even fell in love with a human girl_ he had been about to say, and though that was no secret, he suddenly felt vulnerable. His eyes met Dave's, and for a moment Max was able to stop the butterflies and just think straight. Why was this question important to the man sitting in front of him?

"I know what the book is supposed to say, but I don't really remember being a king. I know so little about Antar I'm not fit to be its representative, let alone its leader. And I know what the FBI thinks about me," Max said, his voice involuntarily getting darker, "I know what they want to hear, and that's why we kept running. They would never see us in any other light."

"No, they won't," Dave said with a heavy sigh, like this topic held a certain burden Max could not discern. Loosely closing his arms on the dark desk, Dave leaned forward and slightly frowned. "You were caught right in the middle of both sides with no idea what was coming at you, uh?"

Max silently nodded twice. He looked at the puzzle again, the desert storm about to swallow the oasis, making him think that it was the perfect picture to illustrate how his life had been back then: His life had seemed so uncomplicated and calm, up until the moment he had saved Liz, and the storm had descended on them.

"I didn't even believe there was a 'them'," Max said quietly, white memories half succeeding at invading the black surface of the desk. "And even afterwards… I still thought I could keep my life. That I could keep them all safe." Max paused, feeling like he could see all the events, small and large, that had ended with him in this place. His eyes locked with Dave's again. "And now you're in the picture, and right or wrong I'm the one responsible for their lives, for the outcome of our deal. Yet I seem to find myself in a rather dark place, with no clear answers."

"You're still in the middle of unknown parts," Dave thoughtfully said, a comment that made the butterflies return. If Max was still in the middle, what more was coming at him, then? "It's not easy being in the middle," Dave said still with a somewhat lost look, leaning back into his seat, his mug steaming on the desk. "You have to grow up too fast, and see things long before you should."

_The very things you want to know about,_ Max thought. His past was his only token, the only thing he could bait Dave with. It was only a matter of not stumbling with what the others had said. The problem was that revisiting the past was not something easy to do, even when you were skipping parts. Max took on a faraway look and fixed his eyes in a point somewhere behind Dave's left, where the snow was effortlessly blanketing everything behind the window.

"You're right, I've seen things I wish I hadn't… and being here, all week long, I've been thinking about them a whole lot more… I remember… I remember escaping from the Special Unit. I remember getting out of a freezing river and barely being able to stand up, let alone run. But Liz was there, urging me on, telling me to keep going… And I have this… clear moment in my mind, where I just looked at her face and I thought she was the most beautiful woman on Earth. And all I wanted to do right then was to stop, and sit, and wait for them to catch me while she was running away. Because if they had me back, then they wouldn't be looking for her... never looking for her again."

It had been so long since he had thought about that night, about that particular moment. It was almost ironic that now he could draw strength from it, but that was exactly what he did. He focused on Dave again.

"And part of me has been feeling exactly like that for the past seven days. Every time I wake up and I look at her still sleeping, still beautiful, I wonder if maybe I should just sit and wait while she goes into a life that wouldn't mean running out of cold rivers. If I should convince you to let her go while I stay here.

"But I don't… I don't _know_ if you would even allow that. I don't know what you really want. I need to know what's going on. I need to know I made the right choice."

It was a rather fortuitous thing that Max couldn't read minds, because he wouldn't have liked Dave's answer right then: _I honestly don't know._

.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.

AN: The phrase _"No passion so effectually robs the mind of all its powers of acting and reasoning as fear" _is by Edmund Burke.


	45. Tell Me A Fable pt2

**XXXVII  
Tell Me a Fable  
**_Cont._

__________________________

It was one of the most interesting birthdays Dave could recall.

He had made a promise, years ago, that his birthday had to be something meaningful. That he would fill his mind with new experiences at least for this one time in the year, even if they were small and maybe insignificant. Of course he had been penniless and barely 8 years old, not knowing he would get to experience anything he desired that money could buy before 10 years had gone by, but he had kept his promise to himself that his birthday had to mean _something_ because he knew it sounded like something his parents would have approved of.

He liked to believe to this day that his parents would actually have approved of it. And he always took this time off to make sure he did something different each year, something unique. What a waste the world was if one didn't get to see it. What a waste the universe had seemed to be until the man in front of him had walked into his domains.

And as vast as his own realm was, it would never compare to being the leader of an entire planet. And boy, he did not envy Max that burden.

_I need to know I made the right choice,_ Max's question lingered in the room. The funny thing was, Dave also wished he could know if he had made the right choice, himself. He was in the rather dangerous middle between these kids' past and future, and the people involved in both. Even if he had chosen to be in that position, he had done it knowing only half of the story and without proof of what he was really getting himself into.

He had to be very careful now, though. Max's serious statement about Liz could _not_ be taken lightly. Above all else, it was the safety of others what Max valued the most.

"You did," he answered Max without the slightest tremor, "if for nothing else than the fact that you're well and alive. That's more than the FBI would have given you by this point, eight days after your arrival here. But I hope in the long run you'll see it was the right decision for more than just that."

Honestly, Dave didn't know if this was the right decision or not. It didn't mean he had to tell Max that, though. That things could go terribly wrong was a possibility Dave took seriously when it came to these kids, and he acknowledged –at least to himself- that whatever the outcome of their deal, he had no idea how Max and the others would see it in the distant future, once they were looking back to these days.

Max looked at him with eyes that were not really young, but that rather had seen way too many things and experienced even more. Dave knew he was talking to the leader side of him, not the 19-year-old side.

Studying Max from the opposite side of the table, Dave could tell that the younger man was nervous, but trying really hard to remain in control. He was not at ease in this room, still too unsure of what answers he would give, fearful he would say the wrong thing.

"I've placed you in a rather awkward place," Dave said, reaching for his mug. "As much as you have to gain, you also have too much to lose. I've never meant harm to you, though, even if you had decided to leave. I hope you know that much."

Max slightly frowned at that. "I've never doubted that," he quietly said, making a small pause as his eyes diverted to some random point at his right. "I've known how much you value us for days now…" he continued, his eyes returning to meet Dave's. "Every single detail about our lives you've taken into consideration means you've spent time, money and resources on us. And you're not a man who would spend any of those things lightly, or on something you didn't care about very much."

Dave's hand froze in midway, the steam coming from the mug lightly dissipating right below his line of sight. "You've been paying attention."

Max nodded. "The rooms, to begin with. You went through a lot of trouble to make us think they were our things. That you knew where we used to be, what used to surround us. But it wasn't only that... The beds were soft; the floor, the walls were carpeted; the light wasn't harsh. You wanted us to feel… _comfortable_. It wasn't all about 'this can happen to you', because then you would have built bare white rooms."

Max looked at the puzzle then, his eyes not staying still, but rather slightly moving from place to place as if he were trying to put his thoughts in order. Maybe even waiting for Dave to stop him. But he had no intention of doing that. He would let Max talk as much as he wanted because this was the only insight into this kid's mind he could get. Hell, Dave didn't even want to move in case he would scare him off.

In a real way, Dave was getting more a sense of how Max's mind worked by looking at how he had arrived at these conclusions. If Max hadn't felt they were safe here, he wouldn't have stayed, but _why _had he felt safe in the first place?

"It was in the details," Max softly spoke, meeting Dave's eyes again, his resolution back it would seem. "The golden bag where you placed Liz's engagement ring when you gave it back, that night at the warehouse. The way you let Maria finish her drink when we were let out of the rooms, or even the table that was translucent so we could see you weren't hiding anything once we sat down to talk to you."

He paused for a moment, taking some air and almost imperceptibly biting his lower lip for a second, a nervous trait he had probably picked up from Liz. It was in the details, indeed, that Max was giving away his anxiety, but overall he was holding his own.

"The way you took your time to tell your story," he continued, his eyes slightly going out of focus as he remembered, "to tell us how you had discovered us… _me_… Even the way you were dressed, all in black, yet so casual. But I think what really got me thinking was that you were alone facing all six of us. We were powerless, yes, but we _could_ have done something, and you knew it."

Dave took a sip while steadily looking at Max. A brief silence descended as he put the mug back. That Max had been paying attention wasn't surprising, but the details he had picked up were. Although many things had been planned and done to make them choose to stay, some others were part of a list of… _requirements_, to put it in some way, that he had had to agree when he had offered to take these kids under his wing.

"I'm glad fear for your safety has never been an issue," he sincerely said, "and I knew enough about you to know I wasn't in any danger."

Placing his forearm on the table, Max leaned forward slightly, his eyes locked with Dave's. "You trusted us," he said and Dave nodded once, "but it's the fact that you need our trust back that… unsettles me."

A cold shiver ran through Dave's spine, even though he remained perfectly still. Gaining Max's trust was vital to his future plans, and how he gained it was the center of everything he had planned right to this moment. If Max chose to never trust him, would they achieve a truce then? And would a truce be enough?

Maybe he should tell him.

_Could _he tell him though? Wouldn't it go against his own plans, let alone what he had agreed upon with the other side?

"The fact that you couldn't wait any longer and told Ray to act a week ago," Max continued, oblivious to the internal struggle Dave was going through, "to bring us here one way or another, your plan of taking us together and unaware notwithstanding." Max's words cut through his inner indecision. _Ray_, Dave thought, knowing he was the only source of information for this. Why had Ray talked about that with them? "You couldn't wait any longer, and I can only guess why."

"You've noticed quite a lot," Dave said, still debating how much to disclose. Truce was preferable than to have Max on the run, but he wasn't aiming for truce. Too much depended on his plans working right the way he had planned them. They were flexible, but not _this _flexible. As long as Dave didn't know exactly how Max would react, he couldn't tell him the truth.

The truth behind a deal made on a plane on its way to Japan, where quite suddenly the future of these kids had been placed in his hands.

Max somberly chuckled at Dave's words, though. "I've been accused of passively watching for a long time."

"You balance Michael well," Dave said, completely avoiding explaining why he had told Ray to act a week ago. Not only had the FBI been dangerously closing in, but Dave had gotten the final approval to make his move. Two years he had been waiting for that approval, patiently watching in the shadows, forbidden to set foot in Roswell, New Mexico. He had never said he wouldn't send others though, the loop he had found to still keep an eye on the kids a mere technicality, regardless of the deal that could or could not come to pass back then.

The actual deal had been done during the weeks the kids had graduated, and therefore Dave hadn't been able to anticipate what was going to happen. Not even to do some damage control at the time. What a disaster it would all have turned out to be if Max hadn't provided a distraction for the others to escape, and thank God Michael had come back for him.

But Tess… Tess had come back and blown up an Air Force base, of all things that could go wrong… Not to mention losing Max's son in the process, a point Dave was still not sure how to bring up.

"You think I should act more?" Max asked, slightly narrowing his eyes, genuinely interested in Dave's judgment, it would seem.

"I think you're learning to take more risks. Being on the run must have taught you a lot of things, not the least of which was how to act fast. We all need balances though, that's why Michael and you work well together. He makes you look at things from different angles you'd never consider without him."

"The extremes of the same coin…" Max said, thoughtful. "Just like you and Jake," he added, with a nonchalant tone.

Dave smiled at that. It was Max's way of gaining an understanding of what kind of relationship was shared by the two people who had the most power over his future.

"Jake brings perspective to things, yes. I value his insight as much as mine. Sometimes even more," _and sometimes I just keep it all from him,_ a small voice said at the back of his mind. He wasn't proud of that, but he didn't regret it. It was in Jake's best interest to remain in the dark, no matter how much Dave wanted his insight in all of this matter.

"The other thing I've noticed is…" Max said, placing his left arm over his right on the table, crossing them as he leaned forward some more, "that you didn't let Jake know about us, not _us,_" he emphasized as Dave frowned. Where was Max going with this? "And I think that's because you didn't want him to have expectations, like Ray did. Ray doubted we wouldn't hurt you in our first meeting, but Jake… Jake was so eager to meet us. So you let us start from scratch. I sometimes think that maybe you want us to trust him more than you want us to trust you."

Dave slightly smiled at that. "It _is_ easier to trust Jake. He has great social skills. Though you're not that far from what I intended. The truth is, you and I have a business relationship, Max, but Jake will be your doctor, and that requires a whole other kind of trust. You're right, I do want you to trust him more. It's only practical. He really is a great person, though, and very skilled at what he does."

_Maybe too skilled, _Jake would have said, the past they had both left behind decades ago still haunting him. But what had led Max to believe this? What could Jake have possibly told him?

Or worse yet: Did Max have some special ability that would allow him this kind of information?

"And you assigned us to him because we're too valuable for anyone else to handle…" Max trailed off, his eyes again in the puzzle. "We really _are_ too valuable," he concluded, more to himself than to Dave. Lifting his eyes to meet Dave's, his voice took on a more serious tone as he asked him the only thing Dave really couldn't answer:

"What I don't really know is, what are we too valuable _for_?"

At least not truthfully answer for the next eight years.


	46. Tell Me A Fable pt3

Sorry for the looooong wait! Here's the ending of Chapter 37. We are getting closer to the ending of this book, but there are still a few surprises in store ;) Thanks for coming back to read!

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**XXXVII  
Tell Me A Fable**  
_cont._

_

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_

_Are you an alien?_

Dave's first question echoed in Max's mind as he saw Dave considering what they were valuable for. It was as if time itself had stopped, the room being so silent one could almost feel its weight.

Technically speaking, he actually was half-human. Except that, when he really thought about it, half-human sounded… _wrong_. His thoughts weren't half human, for starters, nor had his upbringing been, and most definitely not his entire biology either. He was _almost_ human, in any case. Even his powers were courtesy of his human side.

He really didn't like the distinction, he decided, because half-human also meant he was half-alien, and aside from some blurry memories and slightly different biology, there was nothing alien about him.

At least that had been the case until that weird flashback this morning. There was more to his alien half now than ever before. It wasn't only how he had relived some part of his past life; it was as if somehow he now _knew_ things, especially about meetings, and leadership, and dealing with powerful people.

Max didn't really understand what exactly he was feeling. He was not in some vision of Antar right now, neither did he think of himself as Zan, the king of an entire planet who wholeheartedly believed the people at the Summit Room would eat him alive. Yet Max knew that Zan had been worried about being too young and too inexperienced; Max knew Zan had had no choice but to suck it up and do his best, and that no matter what his best was, he would still be lacking. He knew Zan feared he would never live up to his father's example, a king who had brought peace and progress in a time of incredible turmoil. Yet Zan was also eager for the challenge, eager to make things happen.

Eager to lead.

But all of this was as if Max had _read_ about Zan in a book, and only some chapters and pages here and there. Granted, an incredibly detailed and multisensory book, which came complete with an instant background, smells, sights, and butterflies in his stomach, but it still didn't feel like Max's own memories. It was something _other_, something _outside_, but all the same _real_.

Ever since he'd awoken yesterday from that deep sleep he'd fallen into at Jake's office, everything had looked sharper. He had been collecting all these details since last Saturday, trying to guess Dave's secret purpose, but it hadn't been until right now that he had started to see connections. Not clearly, but he was confident enough they were there to bring them up.

He wondered if that was what Dave did. Did he sense connections and then just put them out there to watch his opponent make sense of things he didn't truly know? Was that how he got his answers, by letting others think he already knew?

By the long pause Dave was making, maybe the answer was yes, and Dave didn't like it turned back upon him.

"Do you know what _Mersenne Primes_ are?" Dave asked, turning to look at the odd assembly of numbers on the other wall. Max turned to look at them as well, and now that he was looking at them, he _sensed_ there was some symmetry about them. That there was a pattern, just right out of his reach. Max actually narrowed his eyes, frowning in slight concentration.

The feeling was gone a second later.

"No," he said, turning to look at Dave.

"They are very rare prime numbers," Dave said as he stood up, taking his mug with him. He walked to his right, were the dark wooded cupboard was, partially giving his back to Max. "It's sort of a math… _thing._ There are only 43 known numbers that fit the description of a Mersenne Prime, and you actually need a vast computer network to find them. People all over the world dedicate time and money to find the next one, even if they are only useful for a handful of applications. They are not really that valuable, just _rare,"_ Dave emphasized the last word as he leaned down to open one of the cupboard doors. It was a mini-fridge like the one in Jake's office.

Max froze at the way Dave had said that last part. He had absolutely no idea what those prime numbers were –a math _thing_, indeed— but he did understand the part about being hunted by too many people.

"When I first heard about you," Dave said, mostly to the fridge as he searched for something inside, "I had all kinds of ideas as to why you were here." He found what he was looking for, and took it out of the fridge. It looked like a soda can in size and shape, but it was all dark blue, and not metallic. "Maybe you were explorers, or tourists. Maybe you were stranded. Maybe you were invading, or trading or another hundred things that would explain your presence in our planet."

Dave walked towards the desk, but instead of going to his chair, he went to Max. Handing him the mysterious object, he went on, "Two years and a small fortune later, I haven't quite figured you out."

Max looked down at the container he now had in his hands as Dave casually leaned back on the desk. It was cold and hard, and after a moment Max figured he could open it like an eyeglass case, right by the middle. Inside, it was like one of those gun cases in the movies, filled with some sort of gray foam that was molded exactly to the small vial it contained.

Max glanced at Dave, silenty asking if he should take it out. Dave nodded once, and Max took the small, glass vial in his hand. It looked like a vaccine vial, white liquid inside. The white label only read in black, bold letters "MC – 2001"

"Meta-Chem, on the other hand," he said, as Max stared at the container, "lost no time on figuring at least some things out."

The butterflies returned to Max's stomach with a vengeance. _This_ came for Meta-Chem? Nothing good had ever come from that place.

"They did extensive research on Michael for the months he was there. This is one of the results," Dave explained, as Max had the sudden urge to drop it. It felt wrong, so wrong to know that this was the result of someone spying on Michael, something that eventually resulted in his friend Monk's death.

"What does it do?" Max barely said, afraid his voice would betray him. He put the vial inside the case, and then left it on the desk.

"It accelerates healing," Dave said, placing his hands on his trousers' pockets, casually crossing his legs at the ankle. "Meta-Chem was looking for ways to regenerate tissue, and reverse the aging process. All of you have the extraordinary ability of healing really fast, even without meaning to. And that ability is hidden in your genes. Who knows, maybe with a couple of months and some samples from you, they might have actually found what they were looking for."

Coldness filled Max's being at remembering that Meta-Chem had indeed achieved the reversing aging process. It had led to his death a few minutes after.

"Is that what you want? Accelerated healing?" Max boldly asked. Maybe Dave did want to be healed, or to stop aging, or something completely weird or difficult that Max might not be able to do. What would Dave do if it came to that?

"I already have that," Dave said, taking the case back into his hands. "You didn't wonder why you felt so rested when you woke up a week ago? Why Liz, Maria or Kyle didn't have the telltales of IV marks in their arms? This drug will be in full production a year from now. I'll close the deal tomorrow night in Berlin. Before 18 months have gone by, I'll be able to meet Maria's pricey tag for your stay, and then some more."

Dave turned to look at Max, and Max had the sudden urge to stand. He didn't like being seated while Dave looked down, but there was no way that action wouldn't be awkward. So he remained seated. And very tense. Liz had been right about being suspicious.

"I already have my profit from following you around. You and those you've crossed paths with, as a matter of fact. And I won't deny that part of me still wants that. I want how they could manage to find something as useful as this out of a few drops of blood and strands of hair. What I don't want is the whole secrecy and tip-toeing around you."

Max swallowed hard at that. What would have Meta-Chem done to him if the circumstances had been different? And what about what Jake had said about when he'd been in the white room? That there had been others coming to get him when Pierce had been interrogating him?

"So you think if you're up front with us… you'll get more benefits." It wasn't really a question. If whatever was in that vial had been obtained from an unaware and unwilling "subject", the things Dave could hope to get from a willing hybrid definitely escalated to the nth degree.

"I don't want to risk people dying in an explosion because you feel threatened," Dave corrected, now walking back to the cupboard. Had he just referred to Tess? "You didn't agree for Jake to make discoveries. That's only what he and I are hoping for."

It made sense, Max conceded. How many things were hidden in his half-alien, half-human biology? If Liz were proposing this to him, he would gladly give her blood samples every day, and lay down inside one of those MRI machines for as long as she needed. But the fact remained that it wasn't Liz, but two men whose intentions he was still trying to trust. Besides, he could deal with disappointing Liz, but what would happen if he disappointed these men?

"What if what you want is something I cannot give you?" Max asked, watching Dave putting the vial in the fridge again. "What would you do then?"

Dave stood up, this time holding a Coke, and closed the fridge. "Hmm," he said, frowning. "Interesting question." He left the Coke beside his chocolate on the cupboard and leaned on the smooth, dark wood. Max thought it odd that Dave would have both a hot drink and a cold beverage out at the same time.

Almost as if sensing Max's thoughts, Dave took his chocolate back in his hands leaving the Coke unopened, and expectantly turned to look at Max. "What do you think I want? Honestly," he finally asked.

_Honestly?_ Max really didn't know. He turned to look at the puzzle, little mountains of pieces scattered all around, all bearing the same shades of blue or yellow, depending on whether they were going to be sky or sand.

"There's something wrong about all of this," Max simply stated. Dave stopped drinking, though he left the mug at his lips, intently watching Max, as if this was the last thing he was expecting to hear. "You came out of nowhere, promising safety in exchange for lab sessions. But I keep waiting for you to come up and say '_and I also want this'_, so next thing we know we'll be forced to do things we won't or can't do, and you won't take no for an answer," Max said, his eyes glued to the closest pile of pieces. "That's what I _honestly_ think we've agreed to."

He turned to look at Dave, who had put the mug on the cupboard, thoughtful.

"Meta-Chem almost killed me once trying to get what you have in that vial," Max continued, his heart faintly throbbing in his ears. These weren't happy memories, and he feared this conversation would lead him to a not so happy future either. "They killed Michael's friend because they thought he could heal him. And the truth is, I can't afford you having the wrong expectations about what we're willing to do for our safety…"

_Even if it comes down to blowing up an Air Force base,_ Max silently added_._ For some reason, that single thought gave Max a brief glimpse of what Dave might have been thinking all along: That ultimately, Max could quite literally blow the whole place up. Strangely, the idea made him feel more confident.

"It seems to me that, right or wrong, we're stuck with each other," Dave said, turning to look at the numbers on the wall briefly. "You're looking for some sort of insurance," he said, sounding more as if he was talking to himself than to Max. A half smile that didn't quite reach his eyes showed up. "You've already pointed out how much I tried for Jake to have a clean slate with you, how much I want you to trust him. What you may not realize is… I'm giving you my _best friend_ as a token, Max. You're risking your life in trusting me, I'm risking his."

They locked eyes in that moment. It wasn't that Max was surprised, but the intensity with which Dave had said _my best friend_ rang genuine in Max's ears. In a more practical sense, Jake had been appointed as their doctor because he was skilled, sociable, and maybe Dave's most valuable possession. _Is that how valuable we are?_ Max wondered.

"Jake is very protective of you," Dave said, slightly chuckling. "You wouldn't believe how much he argues with me about you all. I think you will come to see with time that he's your best insurance in this place. He'll never let anything remotely inappropriate happen to any of you."

This actually made sense. Jake had seemed to be so angry at Dave at times. Max had even told Liz that it seemed as if they were caught between Dave and Jake. But why would Jake argue with Dave if they both wanted the same?

Max turned to look at the fridge. Would Dave really settle for a drug that induced accelerate healing if he couldn't learn anything else in the _appropriate_ way?

"So I want to know everything there is to know about you, even if Jake and I differ on how to approach matters. I tend to think you're stronger than you think you are, even if I'm not making things any easier for you," Dave said, taking a more serious stance. "Maybe I got it all wrong. Maybe I'm expecting something that will never be. Maybe after today you'll regret having accepted my offer, or I'll regret offering it in the first place."

Max barely nodded, his thoughts still on Dave and Jake's arguing. He and Michael argued all the time, it didn't mean they didn't want the same thing, just that they wanted to get it in very different ways.

"So if we leave… You won't be really losing that much…" Max slowly said.

All pieces put together, if Dave was being honest, then he'd already gotten what he wanted, and was only hoping for more. At least as far as Max and company were willing to give him more.

Dave slightly narrowed his eyes, and Max got the feeling Dave hadn't liked that approach all that much. After a short pause, he put his mug back on the cupboard.

"I guess I'll just lose the opportunity," he reluctantly agreed, maybe thinking about the millions he would never make at their expense. As if an afterthought had suddenly hit him, he slightly smiled. "On the bright side, we wouldn't be stuck with each other anymore. I wouldn't worry about Jake down there with you three, and you wouldn't worry that my offer is too good to be true."

Dave reached for the Coke now, instead of his mug, and quite deftly threw it at Max for him to catch. Max did, surprised. He wasn't exactly thirsty, but he was eager for the sugar. "I still would like to hear your story though. It seems like every time I talk to any of you, this fable gets more complex and intriguing…"

_But fables come with lessons,_ Max thought as he opened the Coke, _and I still don't know if the lesson here is to trust this man will respect this deal or not._

For the sake of everyone involved in this, Max fervently hoped Dave would.

----------------

AN: If you want the whole thing about _Mersenne Primes_, you can find it here: http://en{dot}wikipedia{dot}org/wiki/Mersenne_prime (just replace the dots...)


	47. Fire pt1

**XXXVIII  
Fire  
**

**

* * *

  
**

The weight of the gun felt strangely comfortable in Kyle's hand. It shouldn't have surprised him, really, since he'd been shooting since he was six. In fact, many of his fondest memories with his father revolved around guns, hunting, and fishing. Yet holding a gun inside this place was somewhat… surreal.

"This is the most likely gun that you will face," Ray was saying now, presenting them a menacing looking Glock 23, the standard FBI handgun, "and therefore it's the first one you'll learn in detail."

Both Michael and Isabel looked intently at the guns placed on the steel table in front of them, fear slightly showing in their eyes. They'd been dodging bullets since sophomore year, and both of them had been shot at least once, so Kyle understood why they would feel… apprehensive. Liz didn't look any less anxious. Just like Kyle, it had been a bullet that had sucked Liz into the alien abyss, and the sight of guns still stirred some unwanted memories regarding being shot. But overall, it was the sight of Ray showing a gun to them – even an unloaded one - that had them all on edge.

"How good are you exactly with the…" Ray asked Michael and Isabel, a hand waving in the air as he tried to get the right word out, "…moving-things-with-your-mind thing?" he finished, slightly blushing.

It did sort of sound stupid when you were talking about powers for real, and Kyle would invariably joke about his emerging abilities every time the subject came up. He couldn't handle talking about them without the aid of some comic relief. It was just too scary to deal with it or something. Ray, on the other hand, seemed just as uncomfortable as Michael and Isabel looked. They weren't open about their powers either, much less with their jailer.

"We can disarm an agent… if we are close enough…" Isabel finally said, losing the carefully veiled fear and standing like the ice princess she'd once been in high school.

"How close?" Ray asked, looking interested now.

"A few feet… maybe ten?" Isabel said, turning to look at Michael, who just kept looking at Ray. Michael was not liking where this was going, and Kyle understood why: This was too close to revealing their limits for his liking.

"So, you usually disarm the agents when you are facing them?" Ray said, a bit skeptically.

_No, they blow out cars when we're facing them,_ Kyle privately thought, looking at the gun in his hand. He'd never been personally shot by an agent, nor had he seen this gun up close and personal, but the danger it represented was not lost on him.

"We're usually not close enough," Michael said, raising an eyebrow. Tension was beginning to radiate from his former second-in-command persona, and Kyle wondered about the wisdom of having guns and Michael in the same room.

"We look for other ways to distract them," Isabel said, not elaborating further. The problem was, _no one_ elaborated further, and it was clear that Ray was expecting just that. He turned to look at Kyle, who froze with the gun in his hand.

"So you wait for their distraction and you just… run?" Ray asked, flicking his eyes between the three humans of the group.

It was kind of a sad realization, Kyle knew, to see that their place in the group was usually reduced to the ones that had to be protected and secured, but against guns and trained agents, well… alien powers always won, and alien powers were exactly what Maria, Liz and himself were lacking. At least lacking in enough substance to be of any value in Liz's and Kyle's case.

Liz and Maria both tried to object, probably thinking that they did help to plan out the distractions from time to time, but when it came down to it, to the actions behind those plans… They really just ran. The three of them only nodded yes.

"Okay…" Ray said, looking down at the Glock, thinking things over. "Let me rephrase then: This is the most likely gun you'll find yourselves with once they disarm the agents. In case you cannot run, that is."

Maria and Michael glared at him in such a similar way, Kyle got goosebumps. Michael was thoroughly hating the idea of Maria learning to shoot, and Maria was thoroughly hating the idea of being reminded that, even with this training, she would probably end up running anyway.

"So," Ray continued, ignoring the glares, "the first thing you need to know about guns is to always assume they're loaded until you've personally checked them. The second thing…"

Ray went on and on about the safety rules that Kyle had memorized eons ago when he had barely been taller than the table itself. It was kind of boring, really, to have to go through all the theory. Judging by the lack of ammunition in sight, they were probably not going to shoot anytime soon either.

Gosh, he was itchy for something to do, even if only loading and unloading guns. Glocks could shoot up to 13 rounds, something he always kept in mind when he was running from the damn Unit. It was a good gun for beginners, he thought, as he saw Maria and Liz hefting one. It was light weight and it had mild recoil, which was more like a slap to the palm of one's hand.

Speaking of recoil, he wondered how Max was doing right now. Even if it had been an unexpected distraction, being here with Ray on their very first lesson about learning to defend themselves had taken the edge off their fretting about Max. Not only for Liz, but for Michael and Isabel as well.

It wasn't that Kyle and Maria weren't conscious of the fact that, if things went wrong with Max, they were going to be out of this place in less than four hours, but they weren't as _connected_ to Max as the other three.

Michael took the gun, and aimed at the empty wall. Ray corrected Michael's hold of the gun, telling him to not let his wrist move in recoil when he shot. Maria looked with interest, and picked up her own gun. There was something inherently comical about seeing both Michael and Maria learning to shoot. Those two had so much fire-power one way or another, that it was somehow overkill.

He wondered how Max would feel about learning to shoot. In so many ways, Max was such a pacifist that Kyle could not comprehend how Michael didn't implode out of sheer frustration. Of the three hybrids, Isabel was the most balanced when it came to thinking and acting, but she could be awfully insecure about her own decisions, too. Still, Kyle didn't complain about Max's way of thinking. So far, they were still alive and unscratched, and in Kyle's book that constituted good leadership.

On the other hand, Kyle knew he should demand more from this club. Like stability and safety. Which was probably what Max was trying to get right this moment, and Kyle didn't envy one single aspect of that. Being the followers was easier, he decided, as he took aim at the same wall Michael and Maria were imaginary shooting at right now.

It somehow felt wrong. Holding guns was no longer one of his favorite activities, it would seem.

When his world had been turned upside-down and he had unexpectedly found Buddhism and its teachings, Kyle had reconsidered so many aspects of life it was almost laughable. That good, ol' Kyle Valenti, sports star and sheriff's son, a small town boy when it came to it, could actually seek and find meaning in life within a philosophy that was so opposite to what he had done and thought, was incredible. It was nothing short of a miracle, really.

But he had changed. His spiritual journey had taken his mind to places he could not have imagined, and at no other point in his life had he truly felt himself unique as when Max had suddenly asked him how the whole rebirth thing was supposed to happen. Nothing could have been more surreal than an alien asking about Buddhism.

It had been a question Kyle had not seen coming when he had been driving their first car after the van had died two towns before. Liz was the only one riding with them, and she had fallen asleep. Max had looked anxious, nervous even, sitting in silence, fidgeting. Kyle had been lost in his own thoughts, following Michael, Maria and Isabel in the car in front of them. It had been the middle of the night in the middle of nowhere, and Max had somehow concluded there was no moment like the present to start talking about the meaning of life and spiritual guidance.

In retrospect, it hadn't quite exactly been that. _How are you supposed to learn from your past life if you can't remember it?_ he had quietly asked at some point, which inevitably needed an explanation about karma and the soul not being a permanent self. But really, Max had been thinking about his former past life and what exactly was he to make of the fragmented, vague memories of an alien king. All Kyle had been able to tell him was, _that wasn't you._

At least not his present self. It wasn't hard for Kyle to understand Max's concern about reincarnation. After all, Max _could_ be the same existence that once had been Zan, but Buddhism taught it wasn't the same unchangeable _soul_ per se, though it would certainly carry the same karma. Max had frowned at that, muttering something along the lines of _I don't even know what kind of leader I was, let alone what kind of karma I'm bringing with me._

The problem was Max thought of himself as the same person: He was Zan. Therefore, where did that leave Max? Max didn't really say it, but Kyle sensed that Max was scared of finding one day that Max Evans, as a whole, didn't exist. And as much as Kyle had tried to explain that rebirth according to Buddhism was nothing like that, the fact was that Max and Michael and Isabel had been bioengineered to be exactly that. Max was Zan, at least in the eyes of some distant civilization up there in the stars.

_It doesn't matter,_ Max had finally said, in a rather curt way to end their discussion. Technically speaking, it didn't matter what they concluded because one way or another, philosophy was never wrong. But in reality, it mattered to Max to define in his mind who he truly was. And having memories of a far away planet was not helping him any to choose between who he wanted to be versus who he thought he was supposed to be.

Max had never raised the subject again, and Kyle had never seen Isabel or Michael even hinting at something like that, but Kyle still wondered… What consequences would come from whoever they chose to be? Did they even have a choice?

"These are the schematics for the Glock," Ray was saying as he showed them elaborate drawings of how the pistol worked. How each part attached to the other and the gun function as a whole. Kyle lowered his gun and paid attention to the here and now.

"While you three learn to handle the guns," Ray said, making Kyle wonder if Ray knew that he didn't need any more training, just pure practice when it came to guns, "you two with Max will learn how to disable them from the inside."

Michael and Isabel looked blank at that. Actually, all five of them looked blank at that. Ray continued explaining without even looking up, probably already anticipating he wouldn't make much sense in the beginning.

"Handguns are not all that complicated when you break them into the basics. So if you concentrate enough with those powers of yours, you can melt, hammer, disintegrate or whatever it is you can do to key components. That way, your attacker thinks he has control, when in reality you have—"

"Disabled the weapon from the inside…," Michael said, looking rather interested in the whole thing.

"We would need to be rather close to it," Isabel said, frowning.

Michael looked intently from the gun in his hand to the schematics in the table. Back and forth, back and forth. Finally, he looked up to Ray. "Show me. What would I have to do?"

"That depends…" Ray said, "What can you actually _do_?"

"Melt, hammer, disintegrate," Michael said arching one eyebrow with a smirk. "That pretty much covers it."

"In that case," Ray smiled approvingly, "we'll start here…"

Maybe it was because of where his thoughts had been, but as Ray started to show Michael what could be the convenient key points to disable, Kyle got the sudden impression Michael had embraced his past life wholly, and Kyle was now looking not at a human-alien hybrid, but at a Michael-Rath hybrid. He wasn't sure if he liked that or not.

That thought led him to another: What would a Max-Zan hybrid be like? _It doesn't matter_, Max's words echoed again in his mind. And no matter how much Kyle wanted to believe that, the truth was, Kyle didn't know a thing about Zan. Max he was willing to follow, but Zan? Suddenly, it mattered a whole lot who Max believed himself to be. Interestingly enough, in that moment Kyle realized it had always mattered who all of them believed themselves to be. Humans? Aliens? Royalty? Because each of those choices meant very different things. Very different priorities.

Yet the question remained: Did they even have a choice?


	48. Fire pt2

**XXXVIII  
Fire**_  
cont._

* * *

"Tess was… not like us," Max said as he contemplated the half-empty soda can in his hand. Outside, it was a dark, gray morning with snow lazily blanketing the woods not so far away. It was the perfect kind of weather for the type of thoughts that were racing through his mind, bare trees looking as desolate as he had felt not so long ago in his life.

He was standing by the window while Dave kept putting his puzzle together on the other side of the black, wooden desk. Max felt like one of those puzzle pieces now, being flipped onto one side or the other to fit into Dave's view of their lives. "Or rather, we were not like her," Max amended, looking at the window in front of him, frowning, the can in his hand now forgotten.

"That's an interesting way of phrasing it," Dave commented, meeting Max's eyes by the reflection of the glass, silently asking him for an explanation.

"We were… too human, I guess, too many earthly attachments. Nothing like we were supposed to be. Nothing like her or what she was expecting from us. At all."

It was hard to talk about Tess. Harder than Max had expected. Too many wounds, too many conflicting thoughts, and worst of all, too many unanswered questions still lingered in the air. It was so easy to get lost in a sea of half-truths, assumptions and questionable intentions. The silence stretched on with Max barely aware of it, not from reluctance to answer Dave's latest question of who Tess had been, but because Max truly didn't know where or how to begin.

"What exactly do you want to know about her?" he asked above a whisper, half turning his face, so his profile was all Dave could see.

"Anything," Dave answered, almost hypnotically flipping pieces. "Everything," he added, this time stopping to look at Max. "You don't strike me as a one-night-stand kind of guy. You've been reckless in the past, but not _that_ kind of reckless."

Dave's words had an odd effect on him. It made him relive too many old memories of a time better left forgotten. He'd been going through hell and, ironically, he didn't know how to start conveying those facts either. Sometimes he wished meeting Tess had all been a bad dream… Sometimes he wondered if anything of what Tess had said had been true at all. But most of the time, when he thought about those months, he just felt a strange mix of failure, shame and disappointment. He'd felt so alone then, more than at any other point in his entire life.

"I'm not going to judge you if that were the case," Dave said, sensing Max's sudden stillness, misunderstanding the cause behind the heavy silence that had so abruptly settled. Max fully turned to face Dave now, still unsure of what to say.

"It wasn't like that," Max answered a bit too harsh, some of his inner frustrations shining through. Taking a short, deep breath, he tried to calm himself, looking at the puzzle instead of Dave. Seconds ticked by on an imaginary clock, yet he could not find the right words to explain what had happened with Tess. "Is there anything you regret?" he finally asked in a cheerless tone, maybe buying himself time, maybe wanting Dave to understand how he felt about the subject. Either way, he found himself actually curious about the answer now that the question was on the table.

Dave let go of the piece he was holding, and slowly reclined on his black leather chair, thoughtful. "A few, I guess," he said at last. "I trusted in the wrong people once, though that led me to Jake. I've misjudged some others, but usually I only lose money, so that's not so bad. Seldom have I fallen and not gained something in return, so I usually don't regret failing. I don't like it, but it doesn't keep me awake at night either. Few things do," Dave added as an afterthought. Losing his thoughtful look a few moments later, he centered on Max again, expecting him to continue.

"How much… do you… actually know about Tess?" Max cautiously asked, narrowing his eyes.

"Not much," Dave admitted with a short sigh, "not much outside what you've told me this week, which means your shapeshifter knew quite well how to keep his tracks covered. It's quite impressive in this day and age, if I must say. Almost everything leaves a paper trail, and Tess's was as clean as they come. What little I found was that she moved around a lot, which actually tells me more about him than her. If she wasn't leaving silver handprints behind, then he was the reason they were moving around so much. She must have known half the continent by the time she was 12."

How ironic, Max privately thought, that Tess got to see the world and ended up despising it anyway. They could barely decide where to go to college for fear of being separated, let alone go to another country. Why did Tess never seem to appreciate such things?

"She never talked about her trips?" Dave asked, intrigued.

Max shook his head. "She never talked about her past much. She was… _focused_ on her future. She was always… so intent on bringing up Antar and our 'destiny' that, honestly, it never occurred to me that she might actually want to talk about anything else." He tried to picture Tess talking excitedly about some exotic place she might have seen, but utterly failed. There was hardly a time when he remembered her smiling, let alone sharing something non-alien that she might have found interesting.

"According to school gossip," Dave continued when Max didn't elaborate, "Tess was pretty much a loner if she wasn't around one of you, though she was not unpopular. She got good grades, and kept out of trouble, so there was not much to get from the teachers." Dave paused for a second, as if mentally shifting sheets on an imaginary file. "She dated Kyle, moved in with him, but since his dad was the Sheriff not many people made much out of it… Then she dated you for a short while, and then… she disappeared. Just as she came, she went. It really is surprising for someone who use to be the queen of an entire planet. You gotta give it to her, she knew how to keep a low profile."

_And how… _The dark thought crossed his mind, remembering how long Tess had been controlling Alex without anyone suspecting a thing.

"I didn't even notice the first day she was in school," Max conceded in a rather frustrated manner, his eyes going to the half-made puzzle again. Memories of happier, easier times came to him then. Of afternoons spent with Liz when everything wasn't so complicated. With no destiny in sight, no running away, no alien enemies.

_Just the Unit._

Max involuntarily shivered. He turned to the window to disguise it, unwanted memories following him along with Dave's gaze. _How do you know women so well? _Tess's first words to him echoed through his mind. The answer was easy: He didn't.

"You have to understand something very fundamental about Tess," Max said, barely above a whisper, though the room was so silent it didn't really matter, "She had the power to make you believe just about anything. You would literally see what she wanted, and she could wipe away your memories and replace them with new ones. Reality was never a sure thing around her."

His mind kept reliving that time, of Tess placing thoughts about them together… And it hadn't been just the idea that he was somehow cheating on Liz that had terrified him, but the profound feeling that had invaded him that he was no longer the same. Something had awakened in those weeks, something he had never truly been able to lock back up: the sense of being alien. Worse, the sense of being alien to himself.

Ironically, this he had been able to forgive with time. Hadn't Tess grown up thinking he was her husband and king? That they were 'meant to be together' as she proclaimed at every chance she'd had at the time? How much different would Max have been had he been in her place? Growing up alone, yearning to find others like him, _family._ No, he couldn't hold it against her, though he did warn her that he did not appreciate being mindwarped. She'd said she was sorry. He'd say it was okay. So easy.

So wrong.

Next time she did it, it was to make him believe that he was making a connection to his son. And to this day, Max could not forgive her for that. Not playing with him like that.

"Regardless, you let her in," Dave pointed out, slightly narrowing his eyes.

"We thought she was one of us," Max agreed. "It was only natural…"

Sometimes, on rainy days and lonely roads, Max thought that maybe Tess too had thought that she was one of them. That if he'd tried harder to include her, maybe she wouldn't have turned on them. That if he'd done _more_ he would have prevented her from killing Alex at the very least, and maybe even make her a part of their group at best. Was it really so bad to be human? Was it so repulsive to want a normal life? He could never shake the feeling that on some distant planet, their former selves had been married, had cared for each other, and had even somehow ensured they would be together afterwards. Didn't that count for something? In this new version of their lives, he had to admit that things didn't quite add up on the romantic side of it… but still, she was part of their puzzle, and for a while she'd seemed to awkwardly fit…

In retrospect, for a while too, he saw her as a friend. When his life was falling apart, he saw her as a confidant. And when being human hurt like hell, being alien became the only way he could hold onto some semblance of sanity. And being alien also meant accepting his destiny. _I'm ready to wake up now…_

The light in the room flickered, and Max immediately stopped his train of thought, quickly raining in his rising anger. Hardly ever did he allow himself to get too deep in these thoughts, but losing his focus now was unacceptable. Dave looked up at the light bulb, and then slowly lowered his eyes to Max, and then to his puzzle.

"You all have the strangest reactions when you're talking about her," Dave said, his hand reaching for a far away piece, hazel eyes tirelessly searching its place.

Something hit Max with those words. The thing that made talking about Tess so difficult, Max realized, was that he'd never done it. Who would he have sought to talk to about her? During the months after Tess had left for Antar, Max had tried Michael, but Michael could only take a serious conversation for so long. Isabel had wanted her dead. Maria had had very vivid ways of describing how exactly that death should occur. Even Kyle would shy away from it, one of the rare topics he wouldn't talk about. Liz was just out of the question, plain and simple.

And then Tess had come back, had died, and they had found themselves on the run. Max had talked to Liz once about their past mistakes, but it wasn't as if he had detailed every single thought, doubt and suspicion he'd had about Tess out loud, the way he did in his mind.

Shaking those rather somber thoughts, Max refocused on the present.

"You thought she was one of you," Dave repeated Max's words in order to retake the conversation, "that explains why she was around. But it doesn't exactly explain why Liz wasn't," the older man said as he fit another piece.

"I don't understand," Max replied, honestly not sure what Dave was fishing for here.

"Liz spent the entire summer in Florida in 2000. I've got plenty of records to confirm that. Tess had just moved in… so why was Liz moving out?"

The new apparent focus on Liz took Max by surprise, even though in his mind the uncensored answer easily came, _because she could run and I couldn't._ He recovered fast, however, answering Dave's seemingly random question. "Liz thought it would be best for me… if she wasn't around… in the middle of my destiny."

"And Tess took advantage of that?" Dave asked, stopping again as if this point in the story was more important than all the others.

Honestly? No. If anything, she'd taken a rather stoic approach once he'd told her that there was nothing between them beyond a kinship of sorts. Reluctantly, Max shook his head.

"Maria didn't buy it," Max elaborated with a sad half smile. "When Liz left and Tess stayed in the background, Maria never thought I should… you know… believe Tess's words anyway… She never liked Tess."

When that summer from hell had begun four years back, and Liz had gone to Florida, he'd just turned to Maria. She was his only link to his soul mate, and there were so many things he was desperately trying to block from his mind, starting with Pierce and ending with a message from his real mother. He was barely 17, and already he'd escaped torture and survived the FBI, just to find out that a war was waiting for him back "home", assuming he hadn't brought it to _this_ home, while everyone was waiting for him to lead, especially Michael. But to lead where? To fight what? It didn't matter, he was supposed to know. He was always supposed to know.

_You know what? _Maria had said one night when he was feeling particularly low, harshly placing a Cherry Coke on the table, the contents spilling a bit from the force of it. _Screw them all. They want you to be the hero, well, sorry. But no. You're dealing with a lot of crap that for some reason you don't want to share with them, and that's fine. But you need to take care of yourself before you can -or should- take care of anyone else. _

Spending time with Maria in those days had been soothing. She was the only one who knew what had happened to him, and the only one who wasn't looking at him for answers, but rather letting him be silent, sitting in a half obscured booth by the corner. He'd needed to be surrounded by familiar places, safe places, and slowly but surely, he'd put himself back together under Maria's soft, green eyes, even if she was equally hurting because of Michael's refusal to be with her.

He would have drowned without Maria's reassurances that Liz's rejections had nothing to do with him as a person, and his own self assurance that Liz being out there and not in here was better for her safety anyway. If Roswell was doomed, if he was calling back the bad guys, it was better for Liz to be as far away as possible than by his side keeping the shadows at bay. Shadows that were aplenty for months without end.

"She really is very protective of you, you know?" Dave casually said, as he narrowed his eyes at a piece, trying to figure out where to fit it. "She's Liz's best friend, and Michael's love, but I think… I think she's the one who keeps you honest to yourself when everyone else fails. She's incorruptible like that…"

It was a rare thing to hear from someone who Max would technically consider a threat. It took him by surprise to hear such well defined observation, indeed, but part of him wondered if there was some possibly dangerous undertone. Was Dave threatening Maria or merely remarking something he found noble?

"Just like Jake," Dave added as an afterthought, a warm smile spreading as he fit the piece in its proper place. It wasn't much, but it was enough of an opening for Max to get some much needed background.

"How did you meet Jake?" Max asked, trying to sound casual about it. Dave raised an eyebrow, expectant. Maybe surprised. Max wasn't really sure, except that Dave didn't look all that happy about the question itself. It made Max feel awkward, and too aware of the silence in the room, the harshness of the light, and the vague tingling in his fingertips. Max hated being nervous.

What he didn't know was that getting the answer to his question would be getting information that just a selected few had ever known. How Dave and Jake had met was a tangled story buried in dark corners that no one wanted to touch. Not even Dave.


	49. Fire pt3

**XVIII  
Fire**  
_Cont._

* * *

A knock came unexpectedly at Jake's office. He was not supposed to be at the lab, it being a Saturday morning and all, and no one had said anything about visiting, especially Alan, the newest addition to the compound and Liz's future science mentor if the girl was smart enough to accept his offering.

"Come in," Jake said, closing his notebook. This was not a welcome visit since having company now meant he could not continue analyzing the data he had collected from the kids all week.

Of all the people that could have come walking in that door, he was not on the list. Tall and slender, Richard came into the room. Their Administrator rarely talked to him, especially since Dave was his main reason to be here, and they only spoke when Dave was present. Everybody was too busy with their own grand research to be much trouble to the Administrator but should trouble ever arise, Richard had proven to be very effective at controlling and solving the problems.

Richard had also proven to be very good at tracking down Dave back in the day. Of all the people in this place, Richard was the one person who knew the most about them, a thought that did not quiet sit well in Jake's mind. He didn't dislike the man, but he did think that Dave had placed way too much trust in him.

"I thought I'd find you here," the older man said, letting himself in.

"I hope everything is okay," Jake queried, frowning. There really were only a few reasons to have Richard in one's office and none of them were good unless the man was one's friend.

Richard nodded, blue eyes glancing at the chair, obviously waiting for an invitation. "I'm just curious," he said, as Jake indicated with a hand that he could have a seat.

"Curious?" Jake inquired, his mind going through options and memories of whether or not anything had been said about Richard recently.

"I usually know what's going on, so it really intrigues me to be… in the dark. I can go and research on my own, but I guess it would be easier to just talk with you. Dave seems to be busy at the moment…"

"I'm sorry, but what are we talking about?" Jake asked, some inner alarm going off. It was an odd sensation, one he had not felt in almost two decades. It was the feeling of being cornered.

"The new kids that arrived last week."

It took a great effort, but Jake made himself look calm, looking as though those words had had no more effect on him than being told that the weather was cold.

"What about them?" he asked, the notebook beneath his hands suddenly feeling hot with all the information it contained regarding those very same kids.

"Is there something I should know about them?" Richard questioned, slightly narrowing his eyes.

"Why so curious?" Jake asked, trying to smile.

"White Cards are not easy to come by," Richard said, referring to the color keys everyone had on the complex, signaling one's clearance to go around. White was the highest, and it was bound to attract attention. "But no one seems to know _why_ they are White Cards. Keepers are crawling the walls thinking that they are Messengers. Except I know all Messengers, and those kids are not on the list."

"They are Dave's latest plan. That's all there is to know," Jake said, trying to sound casual, though both men knew this was supposed to be the end of the discussion.

Richard nodded once, acknowledging Jake's words. "I usually would think the same but the thing is, there was an intruder yesterday," the Administrator continued, bringing to Jake's mind that Dave had been battling some hacker yesterday who had been dangerously close to decrypt level 5 codes. Dave had been impressed; Jake had thought that had been the end of it. Well, apparently not. If Richard was fishing for answers, there was no better way than going through a security argument. "And this intruder was looking for specific files," Richard ended.

"On the kids?" Jake asked a little too fast, astonished. Who could know that they were under Dave's care only after a week?

"No," Richard said with a small smile, glad he had finally gotten a reaction out of Jake. "About a project to search for high energy microwave signals in space. He did get to see the files for about two seconds before the Keepers chased him out of the system, and luckily, he was not able to them. The files however, are attached to something regarding our new guests, and so I started to research what else was related to them. Turns out I have no access at all."

"Does Dave know what this hacker found?" Jake asked, knowing that Dave was in the middle of his meeting with Max. He also knew that Dave had dismissed the attack, thinking that it had done no damage.

"No, he's been in a meeting all morning long. I barely discovered this an hour ago. Short of telling him, the only other person who I thought might know what's going on is you. Besides, Dave never worries about what did not happen, so he might not pay attention to this at all."

_You might be wrong this time if it concerns Max and the others,_ Jake quietly thought. This was bad. High energy microwave signals were the first step into finding out about aliens and how they were making contact with Earth. And from there, with a little luck, one could find about Max.

"So, since I'd like to know what I'm fighting against, I thought maybe you could tell me what else I should look into. The hacker will come back, he's too good not to try himself against Dave's systems."

"I'm sure Dave will look into it," Jake said after a moment. Programs and codes were not Jake's field, and though he understood the basics, it did not come to him as naturally as chemistry did.

Richard looked thoughtful for a second. "You shouldn't let David make such decisions on his own. He's blind to everything else except to what he wants, and you've always been the one to set him straight."

Jake tried to look unaffected, but hearing him talk so casually about their relationship, especially saying _David_ as an everyday word, made him feel utterly exposed. Of course Richard _knew_ about their past, that was no secret, but knowing that he was using it was unsettling beyond words.

"What makes you think that Dave will not take this seriously?" Jake asked, feeling tense.

"Oh, he will take it seriously. He's spent millions on whatever his plan is. I said 'he's blind to _everything _else except to what he wants', which means he'll act recklessly in order to get it. That puts you, and by extension this place and me, in danger."

He was right, of course. Dave got obsessed with things and could lose sight of other events happening around him. The problem was, however, that not even Jake himself was entirely sure what Dave was after. What troubled Jake the most was the fact that Richard knew Dave had spent millions, which meant that their Administrator had been snooping around.

"There is another thing," Richard said after a moment, as if it were an afterthought. "The Pentagon got a cyber attacked shortly after ours. I cannot prove that it was the same hacker, of course, but… for what I am able to piece together, he was looking for the Alpha files."

The name echoed in Jake's mind as everything else stopped. For all Jake knew, the whole world had indeed just stopped. The Alpha project's logo flashed into Jake's mind as bright as a neon sign in New York City. Jake remembered everything, but this symbol in particular would have been embedded into his memories regardless.

"I thought they were destroyed," Jake heard himself say far away. The Alpha project, the place where he had met Dave 32 years ago. The place they had both escaped 6 years after. The people who thought Dave was dead and could very well still be out there looking for him.

"They were," Richard assured him, "but there's always a backup somewhere. I know it could be a coincidence but… I think someone's trying to find your friend."

"Dave'll find him first," Jake absently said, swallowing hard to get his mind on the present. "He should know," he said, blinking rapidly twice, "about the hacker wanting those files."

"Jake," Richard said, slightly inclining forward, "Why are those kids so important? This is no time for Dave to be distracted if there's someone on his tail. I cannot foresee any threats if I'm not aware of the things Dave has had his hands on."

It was a valid claim, Jake had to admit. Sighing, he resigned himself to answer. He just hoped that Dave would see it his way once he found out.

* * *

_Easy, Dave. Easy._

Jake's words echoed in Dave's mind as he regarded Max. They had been talking about Tess, a subject that had turned out to be darker and deeper than Dave had previously thought. Max did not seem to be inclined to continue that path, understandably of course, but Dave still needed to know. It was time to change tactics.

It was easy to read Max. He had a nice set of patterns one could depend on. Max's mind worked in a very lineal way: from A to B, from B to C. Things had an order, causes had effects. There was nothing chaotic about his thought process, and chaotic situations were dealt with observation, calmness, and rational choices. At least as rational as a 19 year old could make them.

No wonder Max was such a match for Liz. Between their logical view of the world, their need to catalog and explain everything, they fitted together like an intricate puzzle, both very much the same. Except, where Liz had an almost compulsion to answer, Max was far more guarded about what he said. Which was why they were on their current position: very little had been answered, while many more questions had emerged.

Why had Liz left that summer, really? Why had Maria not trusted Tess? And why had Tess _not_ taken advantage of Max that summer, when all he had heard so far was how manipulative she had been? She had gotten what she wanted in the end, but at a much slower pace than Dave would have thought. She was a piece of the puzzle that didn't fit.

Regardless, Dave changed topics to leave Max some breathing room.

Jake was both an easy and a dangerous topic. It was easy to relate to Jake, and Dave needed Max to trust the good doctor for this whole thing to work, so talking about him was a must. But at the same time, dwelling too much on Jake was also dangerous, not only because it brought memories better left alone but it also further invited Max's curiosity to rise. Neither thing was a good thing.

If Max's biggest weakness was wanting to protect the others no matter what, then Dave's was the same: Jake's welfare. It was Jake who had gotten him out of that place. Jake who had taken care of him when he was barely more than a child. Jake who had trusted him, guided him, and ultimately, Jake who had become his only family, if not by blood then certainly by everything else that counted.

Without Jake, Dave would be lost now, either killed by those who had sought to control him, or becoming too twisted in his views of the world to be recognized as the man he was today. Everything Dave did, he did for his own reasons, but Jake was always the voice that brought a balance to his wildest ideas, the view that usually made Dave think things through in a different light.

Max's latest question still lingered in the air.

_How did you meet Jake?_

It was a question that required a careful thought out answer. It wasn't the bad memories that ultimately prevented Dave from telling the story, it was the fact that sharing it would put Jake in danger. They both had buried their past as if it had never occurred, because when one didn't talk about something, then no one got to know about that something.

"We bonded… over a common enemy," Dave slowly answered, uncharacteristically feeling exposed, especially since he'd been the one to bring up the subject. If Max could read minds, he would currently be getting some interesting memories from Dave, of a time when he was six years old and all he wanted in the world was to solve math problems and decipher codes. Would Max understand any of it? The high level mathematics and the complicated formulas? The errand question came and went unanswered.

"When you were kids …" Max stated, even if the sentence could almost have been mistaken for a question.

"Indeed," Dave affirmed. "Age doesn't matter when you have… certain gifts," Dave answered on a rather darker tone, meeting Max's gaze. What would Max's life have been like had Max grown up in a military base? If he had emerged from his pod in a government controlled facility? In a twisted universe, they might have even met there.

Dave blinked, breaking the stare and his wandering mind. "Maybe I'm not being totally honest, here," he admitted, his eyes going to the puzzle, incidentally a gift from Jake. "Not unlike you and Tess, Jake and I were the same. It was only natural that we would meet…"

To keep things rolling in the direction Dave wanted, he had to make deliberate connections between Max's life and what little Dave was willing to share. It was an interesting exercise, he inwardly admitted, a technique he hardly ever used since most of the people he talked to were either making business with him, or knew too well their own faults and were desperate for a deal.

In fact, this was the first time he'd taken a _whole week_, his birthday included, to sitting down and talking to the people he was offering a deal to. Something Richard, his Administrator, had most definitely not missed.

"Regardless, Jake needed someone good with numbers, and… I guess there was no one else up for the task."

_3-7-3-4-7-1-6-4_, the combination numbers to the door that separated them to freedom flashed in Dave's mind. Jake had not been able to decipher the locks, and that number had been the last key; it had taken all but two minutes to Dave's mind. _Getting_ to the door had been a whole different thing, one that had required a high level of people skills and careful planning. And those plans Jake had figured out long before Dave had arrived. Glancing to his left, the numbers hanging on the wall arranged themselves in his mind. All numbers in the matrix played with the eight digits in one way or another. They were the basis for his level six codes, a weird way of using that that had held him prisoner to guard his most precious secrets now.

"Things must be easy… easy to understand for you," Max said, slightly frowning at some inner thought.

There it was, the classical assumption. Just because one was a genius, it didn't mean one was a genius in all fields. But people tended to believe that, that intelligence spread the same over all areas. That he was just as good with numbers as he was with poetry, while throwing in a good measure of music and language skills. It _did_ come easier, but hardly at a genius level. Dave sighed inwardly. He'd always expected things to be easy when he was a kid, complex concepts deciphering themselves in his mind's eyes, always surprising the adults around him with his extreme memory and logical skills; but as he'd gotten older, as he'd escaped with Jake and faced a world where he had to remain hidden, he'd learned that his high level of skills in regards to numbers, logic and memory were only as useful as they could provide money for a roof and food.

It was Jake's people skills that had gotten them out of bad situations far more often than Dave's ability to play the odds and gamble when he'd been a teen. On the other hand, by the time Dave had been Max's age, he'd already figured out how to play the corporate game better than Jake ever could. Cue in programming skills and electronic deft…

"Most of them are easy," Dave agreed, not bothering to explain which ones were and which ones weren't.

"It must have been easy defeating your enemy, then" Max's seemingly innocent observation caught Dave unguarded. Just as it had happened with Jake, the memory of the Alpha project logo flashed in his mind, making everything stop. Except, it got worse. Major McKay's steely blue eyes flashed in his mind without warning. His lungs slightly contracted, for a fraction of a second the fear that _that_ man had invoked in Dave's memory was enough to potentially trigger an asthma attack.

Dave took a deep breath to calm his body. Fear would alter the rhythm of his breathing, inviting his lungs to initiate a chain reaction that would end somewhere he didn't want to… His eyes focused for a moment on the table, knowing that on the other side of his desk, inside his drawer his inhaler was lying, waiting. _He's not here_, he thought, returning his eyes to Max.

"We made his life hell," he answered, managing a small smile. He hated how McKay still had a hold of him, triggering childhood fears that had no grounds in his mind now that he was an adult. Now that he could fight back. Now that his mind could not be used to kill others. He could manage the memory most of the time, when _Dave _wouldbring it up, but when someone else made the most remote reference…

_It doesn't matter,_ he coached himself as he took control of his breathing once again, knowing perfectly well that McKay was still alive, now promoted to general and probably still hunting Jake since Dave had been officially declared dead. Inwardly, Dave still wished he could have seen the look on McKay's face when the report declaring him dead had arrived. Gone beyond his grasp was his most precious code breaker. But that was the only thing Dave ever wished to see from that man.

"Are you okay?" Max asked, calling Dave back to the present.

_No._

"Yes," he lied, pushing the mental door that had opened tightly shut. "What about you, Max? How did you defeat your own enemies? The Sheriff in a way; the Skins. And quite cleverly the Unit the first time around."

With the subject safely back on track, Dave shook himself silently. It had been a while since he had seen what McKay was up to, and Richard was keeping an eye on things. Maybe it was time to see for himself. Before Max could reply, it suddenly occurred to Dave that if McKay ever found out about him, by extension he would find out about the hybrid as well.

For all Dave had done and was _still_ doing to keep them out of harms way, it was now painfully clear to him that, thanks to his past, Max had one more enemy to add to the list.


	50. The Nature of Things

Thank you all for your patience! Sorry to keep you waiting!

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**Chapter 39**  
**The Nature of Things**

**

* * *

**

If there was something Maria really hated it was waiting. Especially waiting for bad news. Waiting usually came with a lot of silence, a lot of fidgeting, and a lot of useless thinking.

If she was going to be honest, she had been in a state of waiting for more time than she cared to admit. Ever since Liz had told her the truth ages ago on a Carnival night, she had always been waiting for bad news. First thinking the Czechoslovakians were the enemy, then realizing the sheriff was the enemy… Then finding out there were one hell of a lot of enemies out there… and finally, on the run, just waiting for things to be over.

Waiting for her life to begin, if she was being selfish enough.

Yet today she was waiting on something not quite so simple. If Max's meeting went well, they would be staying. If Max sensed there was something fishy, then they would be leaving. Both choices were bad. _Both_ represented unknown futures. Both meant her life would be stuck, either underground, or on the road. The only good grace was that, in here, they apparently had a chance. Out there…

"What time is it?" Isabel asked while she massaged the sides of her forehead. Michael, Kyle, and Ray were talking about gun parts some thirty feet away, while Isabel took a break.

"11:02," Liz answered flatly, not even checking her watch. She didn't need to, since Liz had been checking that watch fifteen times in less than ten minutes. Maria couldn't really blame her. Even if they had all sat down with Dave, it was not a nice feeling to be separated down here, wondering what Max was talking about.

"Max is going to be fine…" Maria said, sounding way more positive than she felt.

"I'm sure my brother will be fine. It's the outcome of that meeting that is killing me…"

It was killing all of them. She could feel the tense waves coming from Michael even from this distance. He had thrown himself into the gun-dismantling thing to keep his mind busy, but as noon was approaching, they were all slipping back into waiting mode.

If Max gave the all clear as each of them had done the entire week, then there was an awkward future coming, dividing their time between learning defense techniques from Ray and lab visits for the alien trio. If Max found something he felt was too dangerous, then… well, they were supposed to leave, but how that leaving would go was still up in the air. Would their cars be waiting? Should they be packing now, just in case? And all this was assuming Dave would be okay with them leaving.

God, she hated waiting.

A minute went by without anyone saying anything.

"Is he okay?" she asked out loud.

"Anxious," Isabel answered.

"Worried," Liz said almost at the same time.

Even if Maria did have a sort of connection with Michael, it was nowhere near the strength Liz shared with Max, or that Isabel had always had with both Michael and Max. She didn't envy them in situations like this.

"So, just being Max," she joked, still not turning to look at them.

Isabel chuckled first, and then Liz let go a small, fleeting smile. The three of them sighed.

It was still one hour before noon, the usual time the meetings were over, and God, it was going to be a really long hour.

She wondered if Dave would say something to Max. Something about what Maria had shared of Max's memories at the Unit's hands. Max was the best there was to be anxious and worried, but he also had this uncanny way of bottling things up, keeping things to himself, without any way to let them out. Michael had his temper, and he would usually blow up things, or yell, or storm out, or something equally Michael-ish. But Max… Max would rather die than let his guard down.

She would bet good money that Max would sell his soul first if it meant the rest of them would be safe. In a way, they all would do that, but none of them would do it in the quite, guilt-ridden, stoic way that Max would. He got it into his head that all of this had happened because he had saved Liz, and by extension had started a chain reaction that had landed them on the run. Oh, and he was the leader too, so it was his responsibility to see everyone was okay. He was the first to go out and see if there was any trouble, and the last one to retreat, much to Michael's chagrin. And it was not going to be any different now.

In the distance, things were getting agitated between the three guys. "Look! It's not just that simple, okay?" Michael exploded, throwing his hands in exasperation, the lights on the much higher ceiling flickering for an instant.

Wisely choosing to avoid conflict, Ray simply said, "I think it's time for a break."

That man was a genius.

* * *

"You know… the thing that… intrigues me…" Dave slowly said, his concentration half on his puzzle as he was putting the last pieces in the corner, "Is there really a gene for the Antarian soul?"

The question was as unexpected as it was weird. "Soul?" Max managed to ask. This was the kind of thing he would sometimes discuss with Kyle, hardly with anyone else, and much less with Dave.

Straightening himself, Dave looked rather serious for such a philosophical question. "Someone once said 'there's no gene for the human soul', but is there one for the Antarian?" Pausing for a moment, Dave reconsidered. "Maybe soul is the wrong word... Memories. Looking at you, and knowing what your people tried to do, the question is probably the most important one: Can memories be cloned?"

Standing with his back to the window, it all dawned on Max: "You want to know how much I remember." It wasn't a question. It was actually an unsettling thought: Could this be what Dave wanted? Clone his memories and achieve a twisted way of immortality?

"It's an interesting topic," Dave mused, carefully choosing his words as he rose and joined Max at the window. "Both Michael and Isabel were vague at best about their own memories, but… Tess. Tess seemed to remember. Many of the things she did were because she was pursuing those memories."

Max remained quiet. He couldn't deny the fact that memories of a better, royal life had moved Tess to extreme measures. Ultimately, those memories had driven him to the same extreme but if he didn't have to volunteer that information, he wasn't going to bring it up.

"The thing about memories," Dave said, looking out of the window and seemingly not worried about Max's silence, "is that they are always changing… Even for such extraordinary memories as Jake's and mine, they are altered by our perception of the world. By what we cared about then, and what we care now. In a way, we are shaped by our memories, and we shape them back. So what we remember, and _how_ we remember them, is essential to knowing who we are."

"I don't remember that much for it to define who I am," Max answered, uneasy at what Dave was hinting at.

"Maybe," Dave conceded, unconvinced, "but its shadow keeps haunting you, even if your memories are pale echoes of what really happened."

"So you think— what? That my memories are… tainted?" he asked. He was actually curious if he was going to be honest with himself. This he had never really thought about, that his memories were not what they were supposed to be. Vague and incomplete, sure, but not _different _than what they had originally been. He finally turned to look at Dave's profile, now barely six feet to his right.

Dave turned to look at Max too, frowning. "They are humanized," he explained, fully turning towards Max and leaning his back against the window. "You look at them through a human mind, coloring them with your own human experiences. But their basis is alien, and that intrigues me indeed."

Max returned to stare at the puzzle, slowly exhaling and briefly closing his eyes. He didn't know how to answer to that. Up until this morning, all his memories had been vague, glimpses of places, but every time he had tried to focus on people, on Michael or Isabel, or even Tess, he had come up empty. He could not remember their physical forms, just a sense of who they were, like a poorly described character in a book.

Even in his newly acquired memory about the guards on his way to the meeting, as clear as it was, everything he had seen had made sense in a human way. No alien thoughts. No alien perceptions. Just Max, looking into another's life.

"They are not clear," he finally agreed, resigned to answer Dave's question, even curious as to how Dave would take the actual lack of information he could provide. "Feelings, sensations. Like a half-remembered dream whose details vanish during daylight. Only glimpses are left."

"What do you remember the best?"

Max's eyes briefly side-glanced Dave, and then returned to the puzzle. "Tess…" he whispered, and thinking better of it, he corrected: "Ava."

Dave arched his eyebrows for a second. "Not the same person?"

_No. _

_Yes._

"Ava is a vague glimpse that I cannot even really focus on, but that Zan was supposedly in love with," he said out loud, trying to explain this even to himself. "Tess came out of nowhere and ultimately destroyed our lives. I have a hard time picturing them as the same," he concluded, visibly frustrated. He also had a hard time picturing Zan's life as his own, and it scared the hell out of him to imagine a day where he actually would. A day when Zan's "soul" would crash into his life, making Max nothing but a memory.

"I don't understand," Max added, turning to look at Dave. "What is it that you want to know about Tess?"

He wanted to ask, too, why Dave kept bringing her back into the conversation, and God! Could they just stop talking about her? But these thoughts he kept to himself, even if his entire body language was screaming exactly that.

Dave slightly raised his hands in a gesture of truce.

"It's just a way of knowing you," he simply answered, without an ounce of apology. "These memories, Max, are an incredible drive. She went to extremes for a past that she claimed she remembered. You are followed by your people, both the good and the bad, because of what those memories make you."

"I'm not Zan," Max stated, three words he had told himself a thousand times over, his voice carrying more conviction than he had expected.

"And she was not Ava, right?"

Max nodded twice, his mouth set in a thin line.

"It's a remarkable dilemma," Dave said, slightly smiling at whatever he was thinking, his eyes roaming the half made puzzle. "Am I talking with Max, the 19-year-old boy who's caught in the middle of an interstellar drama; or Zan, the alien king who was awkwardly placed in a life that doesn't really matter, because he already has another life, one that includes overthrowing an usurper and getting his planet back?"

It really came down to those two paths, between what Max had been told he had been and what he wanted to become. To be. Time seemed to stretch forever as he considered his answer: Who was he?

When he finally spoke, Max's voice sounded tired. "I'm just trying to do the right thing." Max's eyes diverted towards the window, the shattered glass by the corner a reminder of Michael's typical outburst. It felt oddly familiar, and by extension, calming.

"Sometimes it means I have to be Zan," he explained, simplifying a complex dance of playing the role according to his audience, "or pretend to be him to get us out of trouble. Sometimes I'm the leader, and my decisions carry the final word, the final responsibility and consequences. Sometimes it means I have to be the outsider, lay low and act normal, hiding what I can do. But most of the time I'm just a teenage boy who fell in love with a girl, and everything in between seems to be happening to someone else." He inwardly sighed at the longing he felt in his words. At the burden that followed him around, no matter what role he was playing, because sooner or later, he would have to play another one.

He suddenly felt so old.

"But I'm not a king," Max's eyes locked with Dave's. He needed this man to understand this if nothing else. "I'm barely able to recall anything alien, anything valuable in that regard. I… I realize that you have doubts. That you may want things we cannot give you, expect things out of our range. That maybe you're even afraid of us. But this deal will only work if you trust us as much as you want us to trust you."

There was something that fleetingly crossed Dave's eyes, as if something in that statement had a deeper meaning to the older man.

"Fair enough," he agreed a moment later, nothing but honesty on his face. "As interesting as Zan sounds, I'd rather deal with the… mundane."

_Not honesty_, Max thought. _More like… relief? _

It _had_ been relief, something Dave would admit one fateful day eight years in the future. Because Dave needed Max to be Max for his plan to work. Zan, on the other hand, would have ruined everything. Ironically, that same fateful day, everything would depend on Max being Zan.


	51. The Weight of The World

Thanks for coming back to read! Book 2 is already finished, and being beta-ed at this moment. So once this story is finished, we'll dive in right into 8 years in the future ;)

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**XL  
The Weight of The World  
**

* * *

It was 11:31 a.m. when Liz arrived at the elevator doors that led to Dave's office. Try as she might, she had no patience to wait till noon for Max to come back. He had waited for her here, she fondly remembered, and so would she. The closer she was to him, the easier she could breathe.

This was the last half an hour of a long, long, _long_ week, and it couldn't end fast enough. If they had to leave, that was fine, if they had to stay, that was fine too. At this moment in time all she needed was for Max to be safe. He had not kept a particularly strong bond today, not wanting to worry her obviously, but that had just made her more anxious and desperate for any sign he would send.

Some part of him was nervous, and some part of him was sad. Another part had felt confident and serious. But for the most part, he had been afraid. Afraid of making the wrong decision, of saying the wrong thing. Of getting them into a devil's bargain no one would be able to get away from unharmed.

_Newsflash Max, we all agreed to be here… We all agreed to a lot of stuff in the past too, actually…_

Closing her eyes, she rested her head against the wall and took a deep breath. Somewhere, up there, Max was talking to a man who had tracked them down for months and was trying to close a deal that stood to bring him far more benefits than it would them, but if there was something Liz had learned from the moment she had discovered Max's secret, it was that peace of mind was priceless.

_At least the kind of peace that would let us sleep without wondering if grenades are going to explode at 2 in the morning. _That's what they were getting out of this deal, and it wasn't even 100 percent pure peace of mind. They would never have that.

_Max_ would never have that. Or Michael, or Isabel… Who was she kidding? After that bullet had almost ended her life and had brought Max into hers, everyone who had ever been involved in the alien abyss was never going to have peace of mind… _ever_. She felt like laughing. The hysterical, maniac laugh that came from too much pressure, too little sleep, and too much to hope for.

It was one of those moments that felt like too much was on her shoulders, like there was not enough air in the entire world for her to breathe. _I'm having some sort of breakdown,_ she idly thought, a part of her mind acknowledging that, at some point, everyone was entitled to some sort of breakdown, indeed.

"You know, Ms. Parker, we really have to stop meeting in halls," Jake's voice startled her out of her thoughts. Sure enough, he was politely watching her with a barely-there smile and a tired look on his face. And although he was taller than her by a good head and a half, he looked smaller. Not short, jus smaller. Something was heavily weighing in his mind, she knew, not only because she probably look just as small right now too, but because she had seen that posture too many times on her own husband when he thought no one was looking.

She half-heartedly shrugged one shoulder, and attempted a smile of her own.

"Long week," he said knowingly, taking a position in front of her, leaning against the wall. She was sure that, had he been alone, he would have mirrored her previous position: eyes closed, head looking up, the world on his shoulders.

"Long year…" she corrected, half of her looking for Max's emotions through their low connection. He wasn't so afraid anymore. Or he was covering it better.

"You know, when I was your age, I wasn't in a good position either. Dave was fourteen, we barely had any money, and we were completely alone in the world. But, he turned things around. I couldn't see how that was gonna work, but it did."

"That's what you meant? The other day that we met… When you said—"

"—that he had already saved my life?" he finished for her. "No, he was much younger when he did that."

This she wasn't expecting. What could have a minus 14 year old have done to save someone's life?

"It's odd, isn't it?" Jake continued, although this time he was looking at the ceiling, "The feeling that you matter enough for someone to want to save your life despite the risks."

She slowly nodded, as the events of that crucial day came back to her. "Max risked everything he is to do that…" she whispered, that feeling that the world was not big enough coming back with a vengeance. If Max had let her die… if she had just duck like every single other person in that shooting… if any of a million other possibilities had played out, they would not be here.

"Just like that… Such a Max thing to do," Jake said thoughtful, still looking up. She realized he was probably looking at Max and Dave somewhere up there, than just the ceiling.

"What did he do?" she asked, intrigued. "You know, Dave?"

"_3-7-3-4-7-1-6-4_," Jake said almost automatically, the random numbers making no sense to her. "8 digits," he sighed as someone who is deep in the past and not really liking it. "Dave figured them out."

"A combination?" she guessed.

"Freedom," Jake all but confirmed it. A minute went by as she contemplated him contemplating 8 digits that meant escape somewhere thirty years ago. "I would have been dead by now," he simply said, eyes still unfocused. "Heck, I would have been dead by my 20th birthday."

_I would have been for my 17__th__…_ Liz mentally acknowledged.

There would have been no fear, no missing Alex, not knowing the person Kyle had become, never being part of something so much bigger than herself. And not knowing Max. The real Max.

"There's a before and after," Jake was saying as she was really contemplating all the things she would have lost had she died that day at the Crashdown Café. "That exact moment in your life that defines that line. You can have a million other things happening to you that change your views, your habits, even some big ones that change your life in other ways. But there's nothing like this one event. For most people it's falling in love, having a child, accomplishing a goal. But for a handful of others, it's surviving."

"Not surviving," Liz slightly shook her head, "not for me. That day that Max saved my life… I came to life. I don't know how else to describe it." She shrugged, feeling lighter, a genuine smile coming to her lips. Jake's answering smile came a second after, even if it was smaller.

"Yeah, it did feel like that," he admitted, looking at his watch. "Do you want to come up?" he simply asked.

"Come up, where?" Liz said, turning to look at the elevator.

"I need to talk to Dave as soon as Max leaves. Might as well have some company up there. I'm pretty sure Max won't mind seeing you there either," he said with a wink.

_Something's wrong,_ Liz thought, not at the idea of going up and meeting Max as soon as possible, but of Jake wanting to talk to Dave. The way he looked, how he had just talked.

Suspiciousness traveled through her connection unchecked, and she could feel Max stopping whatever he was thinking to concentrate on that. _Great, as if he doesn't have enough things to worry on his own,_ she thought while still looking at the elevator door.

"Sure," she finally accepted, her turn to muffle things out of her side of their connection. And who knew? Maybe Jake wanted to chat a great lot more while waiting for Max to come out.

Two minutes later, they were on their way up.

* * *

Max stopped in mid sentence, as if he had heard something. Dave stopped moving as well, his fingers in the middle of turning a piece the right way. Slowly, Max exhaled.

"In the end, I decided to stop…" he finished, the last twenty minutes spent talking about hiding in plain sight, and how it almost backfired when he –and Isabel- had been sent to therapy. _Of all things to endure_, Dave sympathized.

It wasn't that he didn't value a good, serious, deep talk of oneself with a total stranger, _but…_ "It's not useful if you're not truthful," he concluded for Max.

"Did you talk to him, too?" Max asked, slightly narrowing his eyes, his shoulders tensing again. Not that they had ever been relaxed.

"Dr. Paul Woodward, graduated from New Mexico State University in 1982, had two other offices before moving to Roswell, New Mexico in 1998, including a position in said University. Divorced, two children. Had a decent reputation, and a not so decent fee for treating teenagers' problems. 'Kids talk to him' I think was the recommendation line given by Roswell's High School. But if he couldn't make you go for more than six sessions, I doubted it was worth my time either."

"Five," Max corrected, frowning with a bare hint of a smile. _You didn't know that_, it was meant to say, in a rather triumphant way. "Dad had to pay 6 as a minimum, but I skipped the last one. Being called by an interplanetary Summit seemed more important at the time..." It was intended as a sarcastic comment, but it came out more like a longing sigh. Maybe Max would have preferred to go to his sixth session instead to New York to face a life he was not sure was his.

"I never made it a secret I didn't want to go..." he continued, remembering while his eyes aimlessly followed the puzzle pieces closer to him. "And when I missed Thanksgiving, my parents thought they had gone too far. They didn't ask me to go again... and I never went back..." a beat, "as you well know." This time, the smile was more than just a bare hint. Dave smiled back, acknowledging the correction.

He _had_ hacked into old Dr. Woodward's computer and gotten into his files, just to make sure there were no more loose ends to tie in. Frustratingly, there had been nothing to find. He had either deleted the files by backing them up, or didn't keep digital records. In the end, Dave had concluded that if nothing had come up in two years by now, he could let it go. Jesse's therapist, on the other hand…

Now Dave wondered if he should try to look into those sessions once more. His ban from Roswell had been lifted once the kids were no longer there. If for nothing else, it would give him an idea of what kind of man Max had had to deal with.

"It was oddly… useful, actually," Max added as a second thought, correcting Dave's assumption again. "Not in the straight way one might think," he agreed, still looking at the scattered pieces on his vicinity, "but it felt… _normal._ You know, it made me realize that not everything in my life was alien related. I had homework and grades to worry about, a job, parents that cared enough to seek help for me… Put things in perspective for a little while, at least. For one hour a week…" he trailed off, narrowing his eyes at a group of random pieces within his reach. Max had not tried to place pieces on the puzzle all morning long, something that didn't surprise Dave.

"Couldn't have been easy… with everything that was going on in your life," Dave summarized, Max's eyes stilling for a second as if a thinking something through.

"Do you really know where they fit?" Eyes still focused on the pieces, curiosity was evidently in his voice.

"The pieces?" Dave asked a bit taken aback by the sudden change of subjects, looking at the same pile Max was looking at. "Yes," he simply answered. It was always so clear in his mind, and not for the first time he wondered how the world looked to regular people. "I flip them over in my head," Dave explained, "There are clues, of course: the patterns, the direction, the color… and in more similar places, the shape of the pieces. Small, large, narrow…"

"And you remember… all of them? All the pieces? All the puzzles you've ever put together?" Max's bewilderment was evident now, brown eyes meeting Dave's hazel ones.

"It's trickier than that," Dave conceded. "I can recall them if I need the information, but it's not like they are at the front of my mind all the time."

Max let loose a tired smile, the bewilderment gone. "It was easy just like that," he pointed out, turning his early question into an example. "In your every day, you deal with people all over the world, break codes, kidnap teenagers… but if you concentrate on one simple, _normal_ thing, you could stretch it for an hour. He might not have been the brightest of doctors, I'll grant you that, but I could pick one random fact about my life and he would listen without making me feel anything but a teenager."

It was Dave's turn to be –inwardly- surprised. Max had turned that one around rather nicely.

"So, why did you stop going?" Dave continued his questions, more careful now.

"There are only so many lies I can keep at any point of my life," Max truthfully answered, eyes back to the puzzle, shadows running in his face. _Especially_ _at that point of your life, _Dave silently added. Rumor had it Liz had slept with Kyle right about that time. Nasedo had died but a couple of months before; the Summit in New York… And just a little before all that… Pierce.

_"Max was having nightmares, waking the entire house at times," Isabel barely said above a whisper, "how could we keep something like that from our parents?"_

"Your parents never asked you again? Not to go back to the sessions, but…" he purposefully trailed off.

"I didn't let them," Max said, contemplating for a moment some inner thoughts. "I preferred to leave the house before dragging them in any further… And I'm glad they didn't know until the end… I can't imagine how they would have felt had they known before… What would they have tried to do to help us." Max's eyes filled with stormy thoughts as they met Dave's, silently considering a question. Finally, "Are they okay?"

_That depends on your definition of "okay",_ Dave wisely kept to himself.

"They are worried," he said at length. "Not knowing can be pretty hard on your nerves."

Max slightly nodded. "Can you… can you let them know we are okay?"

That was tricky. Not only did he have to fool the Special Unit, it would spur their parents into wanting to do something. Right now that something had been asking questions to Roswell's former Sheriff. From what Dave could gather, Jim Valenti was having an interesting time explaining himself to their parents as he was the only adult in the know, who had, in the end, lost their kids to an unknown future, including his own child. They were all still in Roswell, and that was fine by Dave. The Unit was waiting for the kids to slip up… to make contact… to follow them…

_That might work…_

"Something small," Dave said out loud, as his mind was working into misdirecting the Unit. Till that moment, his idea had been to leave the Unit in darkness, thinking the six kids had vanished into the night to never be seen again. Would it work, though? What would he gain by giving them crumbs to follow just to leave them in the middle of nowhere? Maybe it wasn't such a good idea to keep giving the Unit reasons to pursue the kids…

Except… by the way Max's eyes lit up at the prospect, Dave finally decided that, at least this once, the risk was worth it, to gain the kids' favor for once.

Eight years in the future, he would regret his decision.

"Something small," Max agreed, hopeful one moment, lost the next. "We'll have… to think about what…" he nibbled his lower lip, a subconscious action that gave away how important this truly was to him. Fleetingly, Dave wondered who had had the quirk first, Max or Liz?

"The idea about Liz's Journal was… pretty bold," Dave pointed out, seeing an opening to stir things into something he had wanted to ask for seven days in a row now. Two years if he was being honest.

Why Liz?

Of all the things Dave had learned, pieced together for those two years, that single event in time, Max saving Liz was what was responsible for having Max here. Had that not occurred, had Max not been in love with Liz, maybe the Royal Four would be back on their home planet…

Or maybe they would have gone on with an average life, white fence included.

Alas, neither was the case.

"It wasn't fair," Max reluctantly said, "for them… for Liz's parents, and Maria's mom. At least Kyle and his dad knew the whole truth, but even our parents hardly knew a thing… That night… when the soldiers came to our house and they had _just_ learned we were… _different…_ It was like living a nightmare," Max held Dave's stare, fear lurking in the back of his mind at the memory of what Max had most likely imagined the outcome was going to be. Taken away from his home while his parents watched in horror at what he was. "But they came through," pride shone now in his eyes, probably not only because of his parents, but because it had been the right choice. When one's life was at stake, every wise choice was a source of pride, indeed.

"You weren't expecting that they would… take your side?" The answer was rather obvious, but he wanted to hear Max's reply.

"I wasn't sure," he slowly answered, his eyes turning to the scattered pieces closest to him. "I honestly thought they would never find out."

"What about Liz?"

Max's eyes met Dave's faster than lightning, as if Max had been caught thinking the wrong thing. _Or fearing why am I bringing her to the talk._

"What about her?" From pride to guarded, the little trust Dave had been earned was now on thin ice. _Very_ thin ice.

"Did you ever think she was going to find out?"

A pause. A dozen different emotions passed by, each one leaving Dave more intrigued. "Every day," he quietly answered, the pride coming back, but keeping the guarded stance. "She was Liz Parker. She was not going to go to High School with a half alien sitting beside her without finding out somewhere along the line." A slight smile. "I saw her every day for ten years, wondering… It was harmless, wishful thinking, I guess… I would have never… done anything to actually tell her… But when that gun went off… The whole world froze."

Somewhere outside, a branch broke under the snow's weight. Max's eyes were just as distant, lost in some memory five years ago.

"I wish I could say that in that moment I thought I couldn't live without her, that I… knew I was risking everything and everyone by saving her life, but the truth is, I can't even recall Michael trying to stop me. I _knew_ I had to go to her. There was nothing else in the world but getting to her side. No thoughts, no emotion… Just the overwhelming need to get to her. And then… and then I saw the blood… and everything just rushed back."

"Because Liz was dying," Dave accurately guessed.

"I was terrified," Max whispered. "That's when I knew I was risking everything and everyone… But I chose her. And… miraculously… she chose me back."

A miracle Dave was more than thankful for, and knew had come with a lot of complications, but had Liz not chosen him back… what would that have done to Max's young heart? If she had not lived up to his expectations, it would have been a disaster.

Ironically, if Dave didn't pull off his own miracle with these kids, he would be leading them all into a bigger a disaster.


	52. The Weight of The World pt2

**XL  
The Weight of the World  
**_Cont.  
_

* * *

Jake R. Holt wished for three simple things: that he could sit down with a cup of coffee; that it was a rainy afternoon; and that one Liz Parker was sitting in front of him and willing to answer all his questions in one go.

Instead, they were both standing a few feet from Dave's office door, staring at it; there was no coffee in sight; and although it _was_ snowing, midday did not have the same cozy sense as afternoons did. And most importantly, he was not going to ask Ms. Parker anything.

_Do you want to have children with Max? What does it feel like to have a flash? Why didn't you run away that night when he told you the truth?_

No, none of those. Dave probably would be interested in the last question, and he might even ask it outright. Jake wasn't as bold, but it didn't mean he didn't want to know.

"Is everything all right?" Liz asked after a minute, turning concerned eyes to him. Jake raised an eyebrow, for one second wondering if he'd actually asked those questions out loud and not just in his head. "You seemed… kind of worried down there…" she elaborated. It took Jake a second to gather his thoughts in the here, the now, and the appropriate.

"Something we'd hoped remain in the past has just… popped up," he said as truthfully as he could. Their past, Dave's and his, was something that had a knack of always lurking at the edges of their lives, and it was not a welcome reminder that it could easily be used against them no matter how often they ran.

"Something serious?" she deduced.

_Yes._

"No, just kind of annoying," and that was the end of his truthfulness. "When Dave comes for a visit, there are always a million things to do. He… Well, he distracts easily if you're not careful, and next thing you know, he'll be calling you at 3:00 a.m. to tell you what he thinks about 'that thing we were talking about the other day'."

She nodded twice as if that made sense, and absently bit her lip as her eyes glanced at the closed door. Behind it, Max was still talking to Dave, probably wrapping things up into a mutual agreement. Jake wasn't worried about it, but Liz clearly was. In a way, because Max had saved her life, they were all here. Max had risked so much when he had saved her, especially his own heart, yet he had chosen well… most of the time. Some things, like a shooting at the Crashdown Café that would bring those two together, were just beyond anyone's control. Even Dave's.

"Did Max lie to you?" Jake asked, realizing an instant later that question had _not_ come out as he had intended.

"Lie to me?" Liz repeated, half surprised, half insulted.

Jake raised one hand as if to appease. "I mean, when he healed you, afterwards. Did he lie about what he had done?" he explained, remembering all too well how he had first disbelieved Dave when he had called him to offer this project. _Only it wasn't just a project, was it, Dave?_ he somberly thought. Liz looked back at the door for a second.

"I… I sort of didn't give him a choice…" she answered, looking at some point in the wall while she was thinking it through. Slightly nodding to herself, she turned her eyes to his. "I spent the entire night looking at the ceiling, and my brain was blank one second, and completely crowded with impossible ideas the next. I couldn't pick one. I didn't even know how to ask for help or how to research it. And that's when I knew," she shrugged. "I had to ask Max. That was the only way I was going to be able to sleep again. The only way the world was going to be right again." She gave him a half resigned smile.

"Did it work?"

"Yeah… he told me. He kind of had to once he saw the glowing handprint… and I had seen his cells under the microscope." This time, the smile turned mischievous.

_Sneaky,_ he silently praised. He shook his head.

"Not that. Were you able to go back to sleep again once you had your answer?"

It took her longer to put her thoughts together this time. Finally, "No. Not really… Not by a long shot. By the second night I had already compiled a list of questions I was too embarrassed to ask. Everyday I would go to school and practically stare at him. And then it hit me: I was part of something bigger. And it was amazing. Or at least it was for a couple of hours until I realized I was never going to be able to tell anyone. When Valenti came that Friday, asking questions about Max, giving me my backpack without my uniform in it? That's when it became real. That's when I understood what kind of world I was now living in. What kind of world Max had always been living in."

_That's when it hit you that you had survived,_ Jake thought to himself, remembering a highway 26 years back when he had come to the realization that he, too, had survived. He was free. He and Dave were finally out.

"But that just made me want to protect him, you know? I had been clueless my entire life about this incredible and terrifying fact. Looking back I realized I had seen Max, since the third grade, quietly living with this fear, of not knowing where he'd come from, who would come for him, or even if he was going to be alive the next week. When that bullet threw me to the floor and Max came running to me… I knew something that wasn't supposed to happen was happening, I just didn't know what. But when I finally got it, I understood that what Max had done was to face his worst fear, the fear of discovery, because losing me was worse. I can honestly tell you my nights were never the same after that."

She'd said it all seriously, but as she realized what she'd just admitted, she smiled. A shy smile that wanted to become a full blown grin but instead found its escape into a blush. Falling in love was no small feat. That this girl found it between gun shots, FBI Agents, alien hunters, and life and death decisions was nothing short of a miracle. How small her frame looked, Jake reflected, yet she'd snatched Antar's mighty future king's heart without trying, one sunny day on an alien themed restaurant floor.

Yet the real question was this: was she going to be strong enough to hold on to it in the years to come?

* * *

Time was up, and Dave's internal clock gave a final _tick tock _that echoed through his mind. If he'd played his cards right, then everything he'd planned, every single move he'd made for the past two years –let alone the past week- would have been worth it.

If he'd miscalculated, though…

In front of him, watching the snow fall, Max was silently weighting his final word on their deal. Dave was no mind reader, but it wasn't hard to imagine that Max's worst fears were playing on the movie screen in the back of his head. He was deliberating between surrendering now, or to keep running; between the promise of freedom and the certainty of being caged. A very dangerous and precarious freedom, or a very safe and cozy cage, Dave admitted to himself, but what real choice was there for someone like Max?

_I was 12 when the first hunters started looking for me… by the time I was your age I was way past my first million dollars. But then again, I'll never sit at an interplanetary Summit or claim a throne for myself._

There was a lifetime of decisions that only Max could make, including this one, and Dave wondered if his friends and family truly appreciated the burden on this young man's shoulders. He'd tried to persuade Max by telling him that leaving would be a waste of his talents, for one, and lost opportunities for all of them, for another. _You know Max, I could try to keep you here, but in the end it wouldn't do either of us any good. I have no desire of holding you against your will._ It was the escape clause Max needed, and Dave was more than happy to provide it. It was the promise that he would let them go, and now the decision came down to whether or not Max could trust Dave's word.

"You have to understand that I don't agree with what you did before…" Max slowly said, in that quiet manner of his that made everything calm, even deadly cold, "but until there's no safer option… there's really no other option." He was still looking at the falling snow, but his shoulders were tense, his hands were stuffed in his pockets- more a sign of anxiousness than of being casual. "I will defend myself and mine if you cross that line ever again." Max nodded once to himself, as if he were reassuring his inner self that he was making the right decision. He turned to look at Dave, "And if you touch my wife again, you're a dead man."

It was a promise, of that Dave had no doubt. Dave nodded once.

"Then we have a deal," Max said, and with those words he turned around and silently and decisively walked out of Dave's office, the door closing behind him making no sound.

The silence left in his wake was rather deafening, as if Max had taken all the sounds in the room with him, all the energy that made Dave's office impressive. Now it was just a big room with furniture in it, but no life. No _power._

By the window where Max had stood looking outside, Dave noticed something odd. His curiosity peaked, he pushed the foreboding feeling that Max had somehow left him powerless by walking out of the room, and went over to the window.

It was shattered.

The eight glass squares surrounding the area were Max had stood were cut into a million fine cracks. Where Michael's outburst shattering the window had been fierce and explosive, Max's energy had been subtle, quiet, but no less destructive.

_This,_ Dave decided, _is what really leaves me feeling powerless. _


	53. Correspondence

I can't believe I'm saying this, but welcome back to read the last chapter! (of book 1, anyway).

There are a ton of people to say thank you to, but I'll leave that for after the end. Just know I thank you all!

To all you readers out there, THANK YOU! I may not know you, but knowing you are out there was a constant motivation to keep going. If you can spare a moment, I would love to know what was your favorite part :D

I'll post one more chapter with the thank you's and info on when I'll start posting Book 2.

* * *

**XLI  
Correspondence  
**

* * *

Michael melted and reformed a rubber ball he'd found somewhere laying around. That he'd gotten much, _much_ better with his powers was a fact no one could deny, but it still unnerved Maria to see him so openly displaying his annoyance. He knew Ray was watching him while explaining to Isabel some inner workings of the handgun she was holding, and he also knew it was making Ray nervous.

_Great! Leave it to Michael to scare the hell out of the only teacher who's willing to place a gun in his hands…_

Apparently bored with the effort of manipulating molecules, Michael threw the ball against the wall, and caught it effortlessly a second later. He threw it again, caught it again. And again. And again. This ritual of dealing with his anxiety was more familiar to her, but no less annoying. She needed some way to vent her own nervousness, and Michael was in no mood to help her through it. That would usually leave Liz, but her best friend was somewhere, waiting for Max.

"Could you just stop doing that?" she irritably said. Michael raised his hand and caught the ball one last time, and remained still. _Too_ still. "What? What happened?" she asked a moment later when Michael's eyes turned to search for Isabel's. She was looking right at him.

"Max…" he whispered, finally turning to look at Maria, "was holding one hell of a punch…"

* * *

There was only one place in the whole world where Max wanted to be and that was exactly where he was: in Liz's arms. Immense relief filled him by just seeing her, feeling her, holding her. His hands were still tingling with the effort it had taken to not release his nervous energy in a spectacular display of fireworks, especially ten minutes ago when he'd closed the deal. Now he needed reassurance that he hadn't made the biggest mistake of his life.

Liz's hands stroking his back soothed him while he leaned on her. He just needed a moment to gather his thoughts, gain some composure and be able to walk down that corridor and take the elevator to his new "home". Just a moment… or two.

* * *

Jake's eyes locked with Liz's as she silently held Max. In retrospect, he would say that every little bit of the queen she was going to be shone in her eyes in that moment; but in that instant what he thought was how fierce she looked, protecting Max from Jake's prying eyes. This was a moment meant for the two of them and no one else. That Jake couldn't help but be there was not important. That he didn't take advantage of it was. And that was exactly what Liz was doing with the way she was warning him with her eyes: _don't say a thing, don't bring attention to yourself, don't even breathe._

He didn't. Instead his eyes focused on Dave's closed door, and wondered for the hundredth time what was Dave really up to. And if once he knew, would he stand behind him or not?

Eight years in the future, he would have his answer.

* * *

It was time to leave, but Dave could not stop staring at the fine cracks on the glass. Just as Jake had searched for a point of impact on Michael's shattered glass, Dave was trying to understand how the energy had diffused through all eight panels.

His mind was also reviewing the last seven days of interviews. They were good liars, he admitted, but they still needed practice. There had been things he had expected and few surprises. Most of all, it had been a tale of bad and good decisions, a lot of luck and guessing. A lot of shooting, hiding, and fear.

And love.

Then, there were other things that intrigued him. Like why none one of them had mentioned Kal Langley and–

"There's a situation," Jake's voice sounded rather loud in the silence of the office, efficiently shattering Dave's train of thought.

"I take it it's nothing good?" he asked, turning to look at his best friend, ignoring the window –and its implications- for now.

"Richard gleefully cornered me today; told me that hacker of yours went hunting for the Alpha files."

_Wonderful. I've just finished one crisis to land right into the next one._

"You don't look all that surprised," Jake said, fully entering the room and closing the door behind him, "or worried…"

"If it were really serious, Richard would have banged in here the moment he saw it. I'm sure he had his reasons for running to you though. What did he complain about?"

Jake took a second to recover. It was never nice to be told one had been manipulated. "He complained about you, actually. That I should make sure your mind was on the right problems."

Dave chuckled. _You have _no_ idea._

"You're concerned I'm not?"

"I'm concerned you are juggling too many balls."

"Fair enough… But as far as _I'm_ concerned, things are going well. A kid hacking into our childhood files is hardly a threat on my radar, Jake. If he couldn't get into my codes, then I won't lose sleep over him. Now, if you're interested in catching one of my balls, come closer and see Max's response to closing the deal."

His curiosity piqued, Jake stopped glaring at Dave for taking the subject lightly, and approached the window. A moment later, he whistled.

"Yeah, imagine what he would have done had he said no," Dave said thoughtfully, letting the doctor's mind to take over. They both stared at it in silence for a few seconds. Having appeased Jake for the moment, Dave took that as his cue. "And speaking of juggling, I have a plane to catch and a meeting to attend in about 32 hours." _Not to mention a plan to set in motion now that Max has said yes._

Jake sighed in defeat. That stopped all thoughts in Dave's mind, again. _What now?_ "Do you really know what you've done to those kids, Dave? Max came out of this room ten minutes ago and he went straight to hold Liz as if she were his last salvation. And all I could do was watch by the sidelines. I don't think he even noticed I was there. Are you _sure_ you're doing the right thing?"

"Yes."

They locked eyes for a long, silent moment. Jake nodded to himself, almost as if telling his inner self that Dave could be trusted. "Okay… okay… You go and play with the world. I'll stay and look after them. Hopefully, Ray won't quit… might even help me out as well…" They both smiled at that and the tension dissipated. "I'll see you in a month then. And keep me posted on the hacker thing, please? I don't want our lovely Administrator Richard to catch me off guard again."

And off Jake went through the door, leaving Dave to his own devices. There were only a couple of things he still had to do before leaving the compound and starting his journey to Berlin. _So much to do, so far to go…_ he muttered to himself as he took his G.E.S. He fleetingly thought that in less than ten years, everyone would probably have something like these little handheld computers to play around with.

Pressing buttons and going through systems, he arranged the car to be brought to the door and told the pilot to ready his private jet. He made sure that annoying hacker kid had not attempted anything again. He assured Susset that he was officially "on the clock", and that she could start sending him the pending projects and notifications he needed to pay attention to. It took her two minutes to gather her thoughts and start filling his inbox with urgent, really urgent and extremely urgent matters. She really didn't like it when he took extended vacations.

He stopped smiling, though. There was one last thing he had to do before leaving, but the shattered window gave him pause. _What would I have done had Max said no?_ the thought stuck in his mind. Max had said yes, but barely. At that moment in time, Dave contemplated everything that could have gone wrong, that _still _could go wrong, and he froze.

_Too many variables, too many unknowns, too many shadowy figures… Such an impossible task—_

The horn of a car brought him out of his reverie with such force he actually took a step back. That sense of urgency cleared his mind of any doubt and his composure returned. _Nonsense_, he told himself, his confidence back in place. The car he'd ordered was already waiting and he had things to do, people to talk to, places to go. All those things that needed to be moved and arranged for his plan to work in the years to come were just waiting on him. It wasn't an impossible task, but it certainly was a very complex one. And if they did leave… well, he would cross that bridge if he ever found himself there.

Pulling up his outbox one last time before leaving, he efficiently and grimly composed one last message. He wasn't happy having to report the milestones he was reaching, but he had promised. Not complying with the rules he had set for his own protection would end in disaster sooner rather than later.

Hitting the "send" button and glancing one last time at his office –especially at the shattered window- Dave felt confident all over again. Wasn't his message proof enough that his plan was working? Just three words. Just a simple phrase directed to the other "conspirator" of this plan.

_They are staying._

* * *

**End of Book 1**


	54. Preview

Here it is: _**THANK YOU!**_

There are a lot of people who helped me through the 9 years it took to plot, write, review and post this story, and I'm bound to leave someone out, but to all of you, THANK YOU!

**KathyW:** who convinced me the plot was not far fetched. I owe you big, girl! Your comments are always so appreciated! And your wonderful series has inspired me in more than one way. I hope one day I can write as well as you do.

**Michelle in LA:** aahhh, you, my friend, make the reviewing process a roller coaster: scary but fun :lol: Your insights are always taken into consideration, even if sometimes I'm glaring at you.

**marzmez**, I've been blessed with wonderful betas, and the story would never be what it is without your valuable red pen.

**Josh:** I can't say I'm sorry for dragging you into the alien abyss. Your timely betaing helped this thing get through .

To my wonderful betas through the years: **thetvgeneral, sarah, sundance, Sundae, jero, behrinthecity** and all the others who got a correction here and there for me, wherever you are, thank you for taking on beta duties with so much care and insight.

To all my reviewers: I have no words to tell you how much your reviews mean to us authors. All of them spark the desire to keep writing, even if they are one liners. The long, insightful ones are like Christmas.

And all of you who started, continued and finished the story, **THANK YOU**! Knowing you were out there was of great inspiration to get the muse back.

To thank you all, here's the first part of Chapter 1 for **The Message**, the next book. I'll come back next Monday to start the actual thread and post the entire chapter.

* * *

...

**The Message**

**...  
**

**Part 1 – Soon  
November 2nd, 2011**

**1 : Michael**

**12:43pm  
T minus 3 hours, 17 minutes**

They had stayed.

For eight long years the six of them had stayed within Dave's shadowy empire. Things had changed since those cold February days when they had accepted the offer, he would admit, but two simple things still remained: they still were under Dave's supervision, and they still were not clear about what exactly Dave was aiming for.

_But not for long,_ Michael thought as his eyes swept the park. He was sitting on a bench in Central Park, the early November wind chilling his exposed hands. Tucking them in the pockets of his black coat, he tried not to get his hopes too high. He was waiting for Max and Isabel to share his latest discovery, and this time things did seem promising, if in a dark way. He could be wrong though, like so many times before. He actually _hoped_ he was wrong this time, too.

Somewhere, children were laughing. The park was filled with trees in greens, yellows and reds, and more buildings Michael cared to count. Despite being in one of the world's most crowded cities, sitting here in a deserted area shou

ld feel lonely. But Michael always had the feeling that someone was watching him, at every turn, every time he stepped out into the world. Maria said it was only his paranoid self, and after years of being out and about, he thought that was probably true. Still, he felt edgy. _Where_ were Max and Isabel?

Glancing at his watch for the hundredth time, he cursed his bright idea about being early. They had agreed to meet at 1 pm, and there were still 17 minutes to hit the mark. His foot impatiently drummed the floor, marking some inner rhythm that eluded his conscious mind. He was so eager about sharing his news he had rushed to this bench, but his eagerness was fast becoming dread.

He had news from home. That is, their _other_ home.

Funny how he had spent half of his life wanting to know about it so much it hurt, and then he had spent the other half unraveling the secrets kept in his memories, just to be sitting on this bench pondering whether or not, now that home was closer than ever, he actually wanted to know.

He remembered what the view from Dimaras Rock looked like, how the skyline from the Palace looked, but most of what he remembered was facts. There had never been a sense of wonderment attached to those scenes. That life had always been about being alert, always being on the lookout. For some reason, he didn't remember much about what he felt for people or situations, and sometimes he wondered if it was because he didn't want to remember, or if nothing in that past life could compare to how he felt now. Here, in this time, in this world, he was in love, and for the longest time now, he felt like he fit in. Here on Earth. Although not exactly here on this bench.

He didn't remember much of his childhood back on Antar. None of them did. He didn't remember how he had died either, although his mind liked to play tricks on him from time to time and he would wake up in a cold sweat. He could never retrieve those memories, he wasn't even sure that those nightmares were about his death, but something told him that what lay dormant in his subconscious, was better left alone for now. At least until they could decide what to do with their growing knowledge.

He impatiently looked as a jogger went past him. The trail where he was sitting was secluded, but by no means private. New York was a busy city, and the fall foliage was a spectacle all on its own, making Central Park busier as well. But being out in the open made it harder for anyone following them to listen in on their conversation. Dave could swear all he wanted he was not following them, but Michael _knew_ deep down with some inner sense that that wasn't the case. It was the strategist in him, the soldier in him maybe, that would not allow himself to feel comfortable about sharing this man's secrets in close spaces.

Eight years was a long time to learn about his enemy. And even if Dave still kept things behind firewalls, Michael had gotten past almost all of them. He'd learned a great deal about what kinds of business Dave liked to do, and what kinds of people Dave liked to make deals with. That was why, when he had deciphered the Level Six codes yesterday, he had frozen.

It was lucky the three of them were in the same city –let alone the same country these days—

and he had taken full advantage of that. What he had read was not something he wanted to discuss over the phone, or worse, with their human circle around.

He winced slightly. He hated keeping things from Maria, but this was a necessary evil. Once he knew what to do with these memories and responsibilities, then he would tell her… some of it… maybe. There was just no good reason to bring this subject to the table only to decide later on that his long forgotten past would stay forgotten. The current theory was they should embrace it but keep it at a distance. Hell, if it were only that easy.

"Hey," Max said by his left, making Michael jump out of his thoughts, his first instinct to defend. The closest lamppost flickered, and Max took an involuntarily step back with his hands slightly raised. A flimsy, small, green energy shield shimmered for about two seconds as they stared at each other. Then Max let it go and they both let go of the breath they'd been holding.

"Jesus, don't do that!" Michael admonished. It had been at least a couple of years since he had lost control of his powers, and the reminder now was not welcome. At least Max had been startled too.

"Sorry, I thought you had… already sensed me."

"I had other things on my mind," Michael murmured, as Max took a seat beside him, both men feeling slightly embarrassed at their reactions. Their matching black coats gave them an air of mystery, though neither of them was conscious of that. They both subtly looked around, trying to see if anyone was paying attention to their energy surges. No one did.

"That was interesting," Max said lightly, his eyes going to the tree line as Michael's had done when he had settled in. Michael wouldn't say almost-blowing-you-up was interesting, but Max always had had a dry sense of humor. "Last time you almost blew me up was five years ago…"

"_That_ was Jake's fault," Michael sourly reminded his best friend. He had never really trusted Jake –that was Max's department— but after that day, he had trusted him even less.

"All I'm saying is," Max said in a calm voice, still looking at the trees and the buildings further out, "that I haven't seen you so tensed up about anything for a long time. How serious is this, Michael?"

The last sentence was not a question, really, more like a command. Here was Zan's side of the equation, talking to his good ol' general. Out of the three of them, Max had had the most success in blending in his former memories with his own, but it didn't mean he wouldn't sometimes slip into that part of him that was used to giving orders and expecting answers. Michael was getting there. Isabel was still struggling, but damn if any of them would confess such things to anyone outside the three of them. Except maybe Jake.

He was not going to get into another argument with Max about Jake, nor was this the appropriate time to get into any kind of argument.

"It's serious," he simply answered, and Max nodded once, acknowledging he understood.

There were few things they would consider serious enough to have a private talk about, and they all pretty much involved Dave or the Special Unit. Now Michael was bringing up a third option.

Max turned to his right a second before Michael did. Now that he was focused on sensing her, Isabel's familiar energy was getting near. They had always sort of felt each other in close proximity, but after years of training, they could pinpoint exactly where the other was in a 100 feet radius. That is, if they were not worrying about something else. No wonder Max had thought it exceptionally odd that Michael had been startled.

"We're not gonna like it, are we?" Max asked, his posture a little less regal. This was Max talking, and Michael was happy about it.

_Do we ever? _Michael silently thought as he shook his head. They had rarely had any sort of meeting this way, usually preferring Isabel's dreamwalking sessions for exchanging information, but the problem with dreams was that details got lost by the time they awakened. He could not afford for details to get lost now.

Turning the corner, Isabel's red coat and blond hair were hard to miss. Her smile shone the second she saw them, and it was hard not return the smile. They had not seen her in the flesh in the last five months.

"Hey!" she said enthusiastically as she hugged Michael first, and Max second. "I've missed you," she added, looking them both in the eyes, her smile dwindling as the seriousness of their faces sunk in. "We're not gonna like it, are we?" she asked the same way Max had.

"I finally broke through the Level Six codes," Michael said without answering her. She would know soon enough how much she was _not _gonna like it.

"And?" Max said, surprised and afraid at the same time. They had known for a long time that in those codes lay the answers to all their questions about Dave. Or at least they had thought so.

"I only went through a few of the files, and the Network Keepers helping me were having a heart attack at managing to get in, but there was one… about high-energy microwave signals in deep space."

"Wait—like Brody's microwave signals?" Max asked, trying to understand.

"_Exactly_ like Brody's microwave signals. I got the file, and went to decipher it on my own. They seem to be messages, back and forth, though most of them are still gibberish."

"What are you saying?" Isabel asked, worry now in her voice. If there was one thing she hated, was remembering anything that had to do with Antar and her traitorous past. "That Dave's been communicating with someone out there?"

_Someone_ pretty much meaning Khivar, and that would make Dave the next in line for the traitor title.

"It seems exactly like that," he somberly answered.

"Is there any chance he might be just monitoring communications?" Max added, ever looking for ways to make things not so bad. Michael reluctantly nodded.

"It's not like they have a sender and a subject, or that I could see where the signals are coming from here on Earth, I still have work to do on that, _but_… The last message that came through a couple of weeks ago was very clear: Someone's coming for us."


End file.
